Wednesday, December 01, 2010

in the middle of my thirtyfirst year,

and at the end of this two thousandth and tenth year a.d.,

i can say with much accuracy and conviction that

(though i truly enjoy the company of a companion i adore
and who tickles me from the inside out

and though the attraction of and to certain people make life worth living,

and though i fully and completely believe in the kind of precious unconditional
love that i see others existing in,

and though-perhaps-
there really happens to be some guy out there
who prefers-yearns, even-
to find out all there is to know about the bizarre bird that is me
and who is compelled to avail himself to
build some kind of existence together)

i am,
currently,
the furthest away from
-wanting-
a committed significant other*
(or desiring to have offspring of my own
with said unwanted s.o.)
than i've ever been in my adult life.


progression?
regression?

who knows.
but. it is what it is.

que seh-ra, seh-ra.


*or the idea of a significant other

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