Losing My Faith

I've lost my faith in Happily Ever After.

This is partly because people are total morons, and partly because I think I've been damaged beyond the capacity for happiness. I'd love to blame it all on the fact that men are idiots, but I can't, in good conscience, do that.

Men are idiots, true. I mean, I'm sure there are men who aren't, but there can't be many and those that are out there tend to get snatched up at the first chance some woman (luckier than me) gets. Out of the men I've been really close to (excluding family members), I've been treated well by... lets say four and a half of them (the jury's still out on the half). Of those, one is an ex, one is married, one is madly in love with his girlfriend and one is married and has a son who's older than I am (I should mention that I'm talking about all men that I've been close to, not just ones I've had some sort of romantic interest in or involvement with). The half is... I don't know. Part of me knows he's being a dick, and a big part of me is trying to convince myself otherwise - because I don't want to think that I fell for another asshole. I don't want to think I was stupid enough to be duped. On the other hand, I was never as emotionally invested in him as I used to get, there weren't any promises made, and no expectations, so other than not figuring out that it's generally considered good form to reply when someone asks you a direct question, he hasn't done anything wrong. He wasn't using me, or if he was, it wasn't any more than I was using him. We had a wonderful time together, and that's what I try to remember.

I really wish I could have a good cry and get him out of my system, but unfortunately (possibly fortunately - the jury's out on that, too), I don't think I can cry over a guy any more. I think that the guy I spent most of my teenage years and my earliest twenties pining over has drained me dry, and if there are any strong emotions left in me, they're buried so deep that it'll be a long time before they surface.

So, that's that. Maybe I should just try to hold out until some Gary Oldman clone wanders out of the woodwork and swoops me off my feet... yep, someone British, gorgeous and pro-cross-dressing. Sounds good to me.

So there's my rant about men. I really do think it's time for me to get the hell out of dodge, as they say, and head... I don't know. Anywhere.