After so many years of one-night stands and flings and breakups and possibly even eventual divorces with happy women, women full of joy who put their slippers in order by color and always seemed to know exactly what to do with the dirty tea cups, washing them instead of letting them pile up in tiny porcelain mountains by the side of the sink, you decided it was time to try someone more interesting. So you go for the sad ones, the women who hold their coffee mugs like they’re afraid of losing something else after months of already losing their sanity. But they are not circuses to tame; they are the elephant riders who feel most at home atop the back of a giant creature who could easily toss them off. They love the possible thrill of impact with the ground. And after sleeping with you for one night, they won’t want to stay in bed and cuddle-you will find them staring out the lit window floating like a burnt ship in the darkness of the kitchen, smoking cigarettes down to their last dying embers. You are not a savior or a Band-Aid; you are a wolf in sheep’s clothing. By trying to rescue these women, you are only letting them sink deeper into the floodwaters. Emergency relief is not your job. You think sad women are more interesting, more quirky, that their sadness is creative and moldable and able to be shaped into something that fills you, that makes you whole? They already have enough on their plate caring for one person: themselves. They are not responsible for you as well. -anonymous
Posted on: Sun, 18 Aug 2013 22:58:42 +0000
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