Too Honest to Exist #3

“I pretty much live
behind a wall
of sarcasm.”

“So what’s your deal?
Are you a sociopath?
Do you just not
feel anything?”

“You wanna know
what really makes
me tick?
All I ever wanted to be
when I was a kid
was a momma’s boy.
Her substance abuse
made her work
extra hard
when she was around
to make it up to me,
and I ate it up.

“Then one day
her problems
got bad enough
that she stopped trying,
and it was
the first great betrayal
I ever experienced.
So I took what I learned
about the psychology
of women from my mom,
and I set out
to destroy
as many of her gender
as I could.
And I was good at it.”

“Fuck.”

“Looking back,
she probably did me…
kind of a favor?
I mean, she forced me
to grow up,
realize I was on my own,
and get crazy strong mentally…
even if I was cruel about it.

“My achievements
are probably worth
my fetish for crying women.
As uncharacteristically Freudian
as this is.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.
And hey.
It only took me
until my mid-30s
to admit this stuff
to myself.
I was so angry
over that betrayal,
I tried to
rewrite history
like I’d never loved her.”

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