To be honest, I know nothing about romantic relationships. It has never worked for me. It has never brought anything other than the façade of hope, which in itself is a sucker way to look at things. To me, the experience is like when you smoke a fat ass doobie, and the high clears hours later.
You realize all those happy moments you felt were fantasies not based on your current reality. One moment you’re sure of every decision you’ve ever made, and the next you’re left with a psychological reminder of your failure to join with a half – your ex.
I never thought in my life I’d have exes. I used to look at people who would talk about exes weirdly because I couldn’t fathom the thought of not working things out with my partner. Now, all that’s gone, and I still don’t know if I’m the problem or If I invite the problem.
So, don’t ask me about love or relationships because I know nothing, and I’m yet to be successful at it. I think I’ve convinced myself that I navigate through life better alone. Stopping here and there to smell the roses, but not long enough to vase and sun them.