Can’t remember if I mentioned this before. I think I did. My husband said to me a while back, “You can’t turn a whore into a housewife.”
Initial reaction was irritation, but upon further reflection I realized just how funny it was. I wish I had replied, “You’re right, YOU can’t.”
Maybe it’s true what they say. I just haven’t met the right person yet. That person that won’t just make me flustered and nervous around them, that won’t just love me unconditionally, but that will make me love them every day of my life. Because isn’t that the problem?
Maybe I haven’t ever actually been in love. Oh sure I had a 4-year relationship, followed by this 3-year one with my now husband. I’ve had other shorter relationships and fuck buddies galore. But how could any of that have been love if it didn’t last forever?
I used to make lists of boys I had crushes on. It was like a self-check for reality. Like I was making sure I was still alive, checking my pulse, because if I didn’t feel that desperate desire for someone, how could I be sure I still existed? It’s insane now not having a single person I really want, like I’m missing a part of my soul. And so freeing too, makes me really think.
Maybe I really don’t know shit. Maybe the reason I don’t believe love exists is because I’ve never felt actual love, just that constant repetitive heartbreak I keep talking about on here. And maybe I will feel it someday, but if I haven’t yet then I doubt it. I am the way I am, a certain way, and I think that way precludes love. At least the kind of love that everyone talks about when they tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about.
I think that’s why I’m a whore, in the super promiscuous sense. I’m trying to find this special, magical thing that everyone keeps referring to, and this is the only way for me to go about that journey. It’s the only way I know, anyway.
And yes, it’s easy to say “you should do this and you shouldn’t do that and three steps later you’ll find love.” But that’s bullshit, isn’t it? That’s not how it works. Everyone has to go about it their own way, because how else would they meet the “perfect” person for them? If they do it someone else’s way, it’s not real. It’s an artificial love, and I’ve had plenty of those. They all ended, and isn’t that the point? Real love doesn’t end.
I never thought of “whore” as an insult. I never thought of it as some basic thing that everyone could do. Not everyone could be a whore. Not everyone could get the same fulfilling experience out of it that I do. I’m doing my best to use this part of me in search of a greater goal, that “meaning of life” that everyone refers to, love. But in the meantime I’m not going to deny or try to change this part of myself, my personality, my soul, that has gotten me through the absolute hardest times I’ve ever been through, through a near-suicidal depression. How moronic would that be?
I’m a whore and I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m more than okay with that. I love that part of myself. And sure, I’m a narc so that might seem obvious, but there are parts of myself I don’t love. My tendency to procrastinate on everything. My aggression toward people I think are being stupid, even when I do the same things sometimes. My slightly bumpy nose. I don’t love those things, but being a whore I do love. And how many people can really say that about themselves, that they love the parts of themselves other people think are imperfect?
Criticize me all you want, but don’t expect me to take it personally, much less do anything about your opinion. I am happy. Are you?