Getting Personal – Diary Entry #22
—————- Beg – My thoughts
She wears me like a tattered old suit; fitted, comfortable, and only good for one set of shoulders, one set of hips. The stride of a man with a specific pace to only one life. Every stitch is worn by the pressures of time, but surviving nonetheless, my use is limited to only satisfying her.
Where does my responsibility end and where does my life begin?
My problems tear me into halves, then into fourths, then into eighths, then into sixteenths, and so on and so forth, until there is nothing left. Within this situation, such a barren situation, what life can I expect to have in this world? Will it be a life filled with despair, filled with hardship, or even stagnated by ignorance? A man is suppose to stand for, up, and against everything, enduring the trials and tribulations of it all. This life calls me a name I haven’t learn to understand.
Summoned and left wanting, struggling to get and maintain everything.
Must I lose my chivalrous mindset to survive?
As a man, am I soon to admit that my inability to love is more about resources than my physical attraction?
————- End – My Thoughts – (Psychology of Love – (POL) 101)