There is a new book.
I haven’t read it yet, but I’m sure I’ll get around to it, eventually. I get around to everything, eventually. It’s a book about men, choosing to live their lives without the company of women. Yes…straight men, dumbass. I hear it’s a very good book, as are all the author’s other books. I even have one of his books lying on my couch, still waiting to be finished, right where I left off reading it almost two years ago. That was the last time I…
Anyway, I hear the book is about a growing number of men in the world who would rather do without the company of women, than risk the possibility of disappointment, hurt, or sadness that eventually comes with coupling. For all the good a good woman can bring to a man, there is always the looming probability that with the good comes an even worse bad. And so, after years of experiencing more bad than good, these men just say no to it all.
I understand completely.
Think of it this way.
When you’re a young man, after a fairly ordinary childhood and adolescence, and an even less remarkable bunch of teen years, you, with little to no experience in life, accept what you, at the time, believe is a most remarkable job. In your mind, you think it’s the best job you will ever have. You also believe that you need to sign onto this job just as quick as you can, because you are convinced by the smiling person who wants to hire you, that you will never find another job like this job, anywhere, ever again. So you snap up that job, reminding yourself every day just how lucky you are to have it. And while you don’t have much experience with other jobs in your young life, you believe this job will only get better through the years, because, more than any other job in the whole wide world, this job is a keeper.
So, over the course of several decades, with a few random highs mixed in with a seemingly endless stream of lows, you work hard at the job, mostly because, you remind yourself daily, that you committed yourself to the job, come hell or high water, to the end. Never mind that no one told you going in that the job you thought was your job for life was a job scrubbing toilets and mopping bathroom floors sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, with no opportunity for promotions or raises, or even one day, retirement. All of that must have been in the fine print somewhere at the bottom of the last page of the contract you signed all those years ago.
Now I know what you’re thinking. What kind of a job does this to someone? And what kind of loyalty to such a shitty job could anyone possibly have in a world where there must be better jobs than this? And if you weren’t thinking that, because you’re a smart reader, because you were paying attention, and you remember the introduction to what you started reading about 500 or so words ago, you know that this little allegory was not about a job, but about a relationship. A relationship that conditioned you for all your future jobs… I mean relationships… wherein you would repeat the same patterns and habits you learned the first time around.
Lather, relation, repeat.
Until one day, you tell yourself that it would be better to go without than to repeat the same mistakes and sorrows, again and again, until death you depart this life.
And so you quit trying, because quitting is less painful than losing.
What? You thought this post would have a happy ending? And I thought you were paying attention.
© Copyright 2017 William S. Friday