I'm Giving Up On Love, 'Cause Love's Given Up On Me

I was the kid who believed in Santa until he was 12, The Tooth Fairy until he was 9, and the Easter Bunny until he was 6. No, really. I'll believe in just about any fictional being if the pay-off is good enough. Hell, you think any kid would believe in a jolly Yuletide burglar if he were doing anything other than leaving presents under the tree? Fuck no.

Which brings me to the next thing I've since stopped believing in: Love. I don't mean love as in "Love thy neighbour" or "Love thine enemy" or shit like that. I mean love where two people say "I do" then wear rings for the rest of their life to symbolize the day they decided to ruin the rest of their lives by making a commitment they can't uphold.

I'm not a pessimist or anything, although I'm not an optimist either, but here's the things: Dating leads to commitment, which leads to expectations, which leads to disappointment, which leads to two good people fucking hating each other's guts. That's all dating is: You take two good people and stick them together until they hate each other to the point that neither of them ever want to see each other again. That's not love, that's a crappy reality TV show they greenlight on FOX.

And what about the people it does work for? Well, here's the thing: Whether it's 40 years down the line or, let's say, about two months after you meet, the hand of fate will eventually come down and bitchslap them six feet under ground for no discernible reason, and there's not a thing you can do about it because God enjoys seeing you suffer. Seriously, just fucking yanked out of existence like that. Believe me, I know.

Hey, I believe in two people living together, getting along, and fucking all they want. But fuck this talk of "Dating" and "Boyfriends". It's not realistic, it fucks everything up, and changing your Facebook relationship status is, for lack of a better word, really goddamn annoying. Fuck love.