A Lone Song.

A Lone Song.

I expected her to be the One. It only seemed appropriate. This seemed like my one chance at happiness. Of course: it all so seemed like my one chance at sexual satisfaction, but those are hardly mutually exclusive in my case. I had been celibate this entire time in expectation that I would meet her. I don’t do flings. If sex was something I deserved as much as any degenerate creep of convention, then I deserved Consummate Love as well, for that was the nature of my investment: save up all that unused sexual potential on making that ONE person happy FOREVER. For you to tell me now that I shall have instead unrequited love, or that I ought to have pursued lust in its place, that it was not too late back then but that it is late now, or even if it’s not too late but lust is all that I’m permitted, and that that too might be unrequited on one last thought, I will assert that you are mental. Is our entire society not predicated upon just reward? Who’s in charge of this? Some Kangaroo Court? Who are you to say that I do not deserve it? Who are YOU to exclude ME??

Dm.A.A.