Star Crossed Impossibility

Destiny is a b-word. She doesn’t care what you want. She’s a parent; always claiming to do what’s best for you but never quite showing any proof. She goes along with her well thought out plan while you’re dragged behind her. Along the way you kick and scream and whine for the things that grab your attention, but she continues to march, unfazed by your ear splitting shrieks of hopelessness. Destiny is a b-word.

I wish the stars and their plan were more kind to me. I have a love but H’s love is not for me. The stars suggest that some qualities of us would make us fit together better than peanut butter and jelly, but alas their destiny for me has not yet brought us together. My heart beats for her and stops to listen every time she speaks. My love is magnetically drawn to her although she sometimes seems to be the same polarization. How queer. In time I know we will find each other but for the time being, I shall be content with the love she does offer me. Destiny is a b-word.

Their plan includes a girl for me that cannot tell the truth to save her life. L is manipulative, deceiving, and heartless. I hate the girls I fall in love with. Of all the girls I’ve ever dated, she is the first to stab me in the back and accuse me of doing it myself. I hate that b-word. I love her and she claims to love me back but she is a broken slot machine; I continue to put in money in hopes of receiving the greatest payoff of all, but she does not make good on her promise. What a rip off. I want my money back you useless love vacuum. Destiny is a b-word.

E is a lighter part of their plan. She loved me once, we broke up over something so insignificant that neither one of us can remember, and now we are finding that under the seemingly dead and desolate ashes, the fire of our love burns on. How did I miss that? We were such good lovers, and our love was innocent. Now I find myself once again trying for the touch of her skin. But happiness eludes me, for, aside from my friends’ disapproval, she is in a relationship but hearkens unto me that she is still alone. She tells me so but gives no orders to assist her. Do I wait patiently for her or do I answer the more than likely obvious yells of her need. Should I be her safety net or her gallant knight in slightly rusted armor? The stupid stars won’t tell me. Destiny is a b-word.

And of course, the enigma of my destiny: T. She is this wild, exotic, mysterious girl who gently draws my heart to her strange love. We were together once, but the distance of these useless bodies tore us apart. We still maintain contact and every conversation is an expedition into her dark and twisted staircase of a mind. She’s so amazing and we were so well matched. But the stars deny me visitation so I dine solo in this hell of loneliness. Destiny is a b-word.

My heart has loved, loves, and always will love. The only detail is who and how I love them. I’ve met so many wonderful girls and they all offer something different, but I am denied each offering. What will the girl I meet next be like? The stars know, but they are good at keeping secrets. Stupid stars. Destiny is a b-word.





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