The Truth is, I’ve Been Lying to Myself

I’ll be 23 in 4 days and it’s still somewhat of a struggle letting go of my past. I’m talking about my break-up with ex Melissa. Depending on who’s reading this, it can either be interpreted as pathetic or sentimental but I prefer not to take sides. I’ve never realized how true it is that the person you love and desire becomes significantly and consequentially almost more important and covetable after losing them. It’s been 9 months since we split up and the thought of it still sends a brooding moody sensation up my spine. I didn’t think it would be this difficult to get over it, but it is. I realized, once and for all, that Melissa could’ve be the one, but only time will tell.

I started opening about my emotions when my friend Vinz told me it once took him almost 2 years to get over his Spanish ex-girlfriend. You see, Vinz and I share a commonality that, I think, is a bond as strong as manhood itself – our desire for the most coveted, most stunning women in the world. In our opinion, it’s the Spaniards who claim the crown, or I guess sash in this case, especially after my encounter with Penelope. Nonetheless, Melissa was still close to perfect. The way she smiled could send the North Korean army retreating back to the frigid cold and make even the toughest dictators like Kim Jong Un crawl under a blanket and piss like a pregnant girl while dreaming of unicorns. Her body was like that of a Bugatti Veyron – an exquisite rarity that only the mighty and successful can possess. On top of that, her body was a knockout – rock solid sexy that can go fast like the wind but silent and placid if needed.  The veracity of it all is that I longed for this and I feel like I will continue to desire this girl for the rest of my life. A bold statement but one that will go unnoticed for some time. I know this as a fact because I was once in this wretched situation just 5 years ago when I broke up with my then high school sweetheart. With a smear of an ingratiating state of mind, I regret to say that I’m just not attracted to her anymore. We’ve parted ways for a long time and we’ve distanced ourselves way too long. Further, I’ve evolved and adapted to the nines and dimes in college, the models and bottles of New York, and of course the frequent club sluts. It’s just terribly difficult to keep up because as I age, I appreciate, but as she (my high school ex) ages, she depreciates. The truth is we’re all part of this progressive phenomenon and girls, as men see it, are depreciating assets – ticking time bombs and walking junk bonds. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s reality and it’s the sad truth, the same way we say that racism is completely abolished, it’s just not the truth.

And so, with a bit of regret and a yearning desire for the past memories and shared moments, I’ll be the one to admit that as alpha as I want to be, it’s just damn hard to forget this girl. Our paths may never cross again in the future, or it may, but from here on out, as difficult as it is to cope with the heartbreak, and despite the empty, pompous, ego-filled sex that I’ve had, I’ll keep plowing by doing the things that I do and love best. It’s the only coping mechanism that I can do and one that will be rewarded with vines of even more hotties and dime pieces.