Ah-oo! I am a soldier!

Right now, I can't get over my abysmal romance resume: the fact that I'm twenty-four and I've been in just one serious relationship - one whose break-up phase lasted considerably longer than its harmonious togetherness phase. Efforts to remain friends have all failed pathetically and there really doesn't seem to be anything left except tons and tons of water under a long and swinging bridge. I've dated three other guys seriously and learned some major life lessons through them. However, those didn't last too long. Two months tops - although I'm still friends with these guys, which is a nice consolation. Throw in a handful of one-nighters, a couple of stupid mistakes, some maybe's, and some then-again-maybe-not's and that's it: my love/sex life thus far.

I guess I shouldn't kick my ass too hard. I did start at age twenty and this is a frivolous matter to stress about. But here I am, dumb as a log, stressing about it anyway. Why? Because today, I choose to suck! And I will mope and bitch about it all I want to. :P

Tomorrow I'll be fine. Tomorrow I'll be the goddamned enlightened heir of advanced Buddhist philosophy. Tonight I just want to be petty and miserable. So fuck me.