The opiate of the masses

The truth is a two-edged sword. It liberates you, but sometimes what it liberates you from is yourself. It cuts to the bone, severing tendons and muscle and ligaments. Nothing stands in its way when it comes to dividing truth from fiction. Sometimes what it makes you see is the very thing you want to hide from. 

Love doesn't matter. I'm not a cynic. It's not just bitterness talking. I mean, of all the things in the world that matter, love is at the bottom. Money matters. Good health, sure. Family, friends, a good head on your shoulders, maybe an education or a job with a good benefits package; all of that matters. Love, well, love is Tinsel Town stuff, frippery, the kind of thing that sells books and movies because people like to believe in it, but it's absolute shit. 

My whole life, I thought love mattered. Sitting here now, I realize nothing could be further from the truth. Human love is not worth spit. There is no human good enough to die for, or, well, to love. It's a game, and the game is rigged. Keep people endlessly seeking something which does not exist so they'll never notice their world has sunk into a quagmire of epic proportions. They live and die for nothing. It's all meaningless. 

I understand arrangements other than love. Couples who stick together value something outside of themselves; that's what makes the whole thing work. They look toward something -- a commonality -- instead of to each other. Because if you look at that person long enough, well, you'll realize you've been had. Looking outside the two of you is what makes relationships last. You have to have a WE thing. My marriage didn't have a we thing. That's why it failed. It's very simple. We loved each other, but, as I stated earlier, love does not matter. Love will never be enough. 

So, for the rest of my life, I will live with this knowledge. The truth stings, but it sets you free. Never again will I fall prey to such a trap. While the rest of the world blindly bumps through its love-induced sleep, I will enjoy meaningless encounters and relationships devoid of the love trap. But it will be real, and it will be true. 

I've been an idealistic prick my entire life. Let's face it. I was wrong. At least I didn't have to come to the end of the road to realize that. I'm still traveling, so all is not lost. 

Before I launched myself off the cliff of divorce, I loved without fear. Even as I lay shattered on the other side of that great leap, I believed. But, as I lay there broken beyond repair, I realized this was all my fault. It was all a mistake of believing in something which does not exist. I could no longer live a lie. I'll never be the same; I'm forever rearranged. You can say I became afraid, and that may be true. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm done reaching for the golden ring, that meaning in life we call love. Love, the opiate of the masses. My advice: get your fix elsewhere.