Fool

Why is it we feel such a need to fall in love? Is it an evolutionary trait pushing us toward joining the workforce of an ever lasting baby factory? or have we moved on from the constraints that govern all other things? As far as the feeling goes it is one of the best there are, but is more often than not, later reciprocated with one of the worst. The only feeling more acute than the goodness of falling in love is the terribleness of being kicked out of it.

I've never fallen in love, but I've slipped into it many times. Falling in love alludes to a sudden realization followed by a warm, scary, cuddly feeling of goodness. My experiences have been less perfect. I've stumbled into relationships which tripped me into love. Tripping into love alludes to a feeling of embarrassment followed by terror. 'What have I fallen into?' you ask yourself, all the while wondering who tripped you and why. Every time I found myself covered from head to toe with love, dripping of my clothes, I wondered if maybe this time things will be different. But they never are.

Unlike the serendipity associated with falling in love, when one is tripped there is usually an ulterior motive. While a sensible man would ask himself who is this person who tricked me, I slosh around in the feel good pudding that is positive attention.

The next chapter in the pamphlet of the relationship belongs to our trickster. She suddenly wonders where the clean, confident man she plotted against has gone and why he has been replaced with the ooze covered fool playing in the puddle in front of her.

And so another relationship comes to a close. instead of learning from my mistakes in order to do better for the next round of adequate women trying for my attention, I hose myself off and continue walking. An argument can be made that I should watch where I'm going and stop relentlessly reliving this saga, on the other hand, that is the only love I've ever known.

And so, again, I have no advice to give. I am as lost as everyone else and a fool to boot. But love, it seems, has left a mark of sorts. I leave you with a poem. That is the best I can do.

A fool once said to another:

Be suspicious of love

For it will likely be confused with excitement

A fool once said to another:

Be fearful of love

For it will hurt as much as it may cause pleasure

A fool once said to another:

Be forgetful of love

For it will end as easily as it begins

Once I'm through with all this pain I hope to be such learned a fool.