it is done.

This is all about you.




But this -- writing -- is my life.














And my life should be all about me.





It is here that I will turn the page. I've given this blog a damn good run for its money. Normally I never keep them this long, but I've reached over 100 posts with this, all completely uncensored. It is a perfect excerpt of a phase in my life, and I want to leave it as is, and start fresh.

For my last post, I will give you a lesson in geometry:

Love is a creature that forever eludes the snare of a verbal net. It is so ambiguous, so difficult to capture even a single facet of in words, that it can mean everything and nothing and infinite levels in between.



I think love is like a ray, and every person's capacity to love is marked by one of innumerable endpoints on the line. The length of the segment of what you understand as love is so catered to the individual, and there are so many possible endpoints upon that line, that it is almost impossible to find another soul on earth with a segment of the same exact length of yours.

And of course, life has to make things even more complicated. So much differs with distance on that line that, depending on how close together you and your significant other's endpoints lie, there are varying degrees of how much the two of you can see eye to eye. This is why every relationship is always a work in progress, from day 1 to day 1000; it is a constant effort by both parties to bridge the gap between them, however large or small that gap may be. This, as I've learned the hard way, cannot be done alone. Both parties must have the will to meet halfway in order for things to work.

There is no one right length and there is no wrong, but there are lengths that are wrong for you. All you can do is hope to find someone whose endpoint lands damn close to yours, and when you evolve and extend your segment to encompass even more, you do so together.

I have left you in the dust.



If you will, please picture a long, straight road, traveling into the distance. See the vanishing point?






That's me.
See ya.