Of Raging Cunts

There's a lot of give and take in relationships. You have to be flexible or the relationship will die on the scene, and be left under a white sheet while a pack of uninterested EMTs, firemen, and cops mill about, chit-chatting about their kids or the wife or whatever...

I feel like trash and there's no real reason for me to feel this way. If The Lady were to find this out, she'd probably feel like trash as well, for making me feel like trash. It's just the way it goes. She's being a moody bitch, taking it all out on whoever's nearest (which would be me) and I'm dumb enough to keep stepping out in her path, as if she's some tornado ripping across the country side, tossing trailers and livestock across the landscape.

I have a Hero Complex. I want to solve everyone's problems. I want to swoop down, chase away the dark and restore all that is right in the world. I want to weild that power. I've always been this way, and probably will be til the day I die.

However that's incredibly unrealistic, one, and two, stupid. It's unrealistic because most people, myself included, when we brood we want to be left the F alone. I want to crawl into my dark little place, and not ever see the light of day again. If I expect people to accept that of me, then I should be able to return the favor.

It's stupid because in the end, I'm the one who gets hurt by it. I'm not emotionally bullet-proof; not anymore at least. I can't step into the path of an on-coming highly emotional train of a girlfriend and expect not to take some injury. Hard as I try, I do what I can not to get pulled down into anyone's bad mood. But like a drowning swimmer, you risk getting pulled down when you try to help.

Again, it's my own damn fault, and in an hour or so, I'll feel fine again. My mind will wander to work-related tasks (on watch, which would be weird) and I'll become preoccupied.

I just hate feeling useless.