What's Love Got To Do With It?
ATTENTION: RANT (Not for the faint of heart)
Here I am tonight, working late at the office in a blue and white polka dot g-string, contemplating love and control. Are they really autonomous of one another as so many people claim? How can you really love someone without wanting to have SOME iota of control over how they feel or what they do? You CAN'T! Anyone who can sit there and tell me that they have never wanted to change something about their partner gets my dowry ... which happens to consist of 7 figures and a goat. And don't lie and give me any of that "unconditional love" crap; that's a hoax that makes this bitter old woman want to spit nails. I'm not buying it.
For instance: last week I was at the bar at Zengo with Chaz and a stranger walked up to me and said "Is this a first date?" To which I replied "No." He then leaned in and whispered "Well unsolicited advice, lady ... you're way more into it than he is."
No matter how drunk he may have been, no matter how badly he reeked of cheap Calvin Klein cologne, that guy got me thinking.
I've thought a lot on the subject and have come to one conclusion ... who gives a shit? I may be way more into it, so sue me! God forbid I'm enjoying myself and just want some drama-free fun. I'm flirting with an ulcer over my relationship and sometimes I wish I could just walk out. But the fact is that I'm a glutton for punishment and I can't turn my back on love, no matter how stale it may have become.
I have done this to myself, I'm the first to admit it. I knocked down the Great Wall of Sassy and for what? For lonesome nights of wondering and doubt? For self-inflicted drinking spells that only leave me more questions? For this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I liken to swallowing cement?
You know, for someone who's always been able to stop the love train, life's getting awfully unrecognizable ...