An Update From The Author: Saying I'm not an advocate of relationships was probably misleading. To satisfy your curiosity of my personal view on the subject matter, direct yourself to "The End.," the last post written in February 2011. (This also entails the purpose of this literature as a whole.)
A Second Update From Your Author (6 March 2012): This is becoming an aspiration to define the term "love." An aspiration because it is that very thing I find hard to describe with words. But every then and again I come across someone who achieves to do so to some extent. You can find these quotes I call fancy structures of words in "special entries."
Sunday, October 14, 2012
"Shit happens," is what she said to me when I tried explaining why I couldn't end this relationship I found myself to have suddenly become a part of. She knows just about the most anyone can possibly know about me. She knows that I have a hard time coming to terms with the fact that having sex is normal, and that having sex with multiple people in one's lifetime is more and more accepted. She knows that I fear that the end of this relationship will be the beginning of my slutdom and my initiation into normality. Call me old-fashioned, but I have morals, morals of an eighty year old grandmother. It's not like I was waiting until marriage (I've already indirectly stated that I stopped believing in marriage), but I suppose I was waiting for that one person I believed would be the only person I'd ever be sexual with if I were ever to be sexual with anyone.
The same man who coupled liberty and the pursuit of happiness so closely in the Declaration of Independence could later state without equivocation that 'Happiness is the aim of life, but virtue is the foundation of happiness.'