One Resolution: No ExpectationsThat was my resolution last year, too. And no sooner did I write down a no-expectations resolution, but that I followed up with a bunch of "goals" to shoot at, which are all full of expectations anyway. And then I suggested that I revisit the "goals that aren't resolutions" next year and see how I did. So here it is next year: let's have a look, shall we?
Twelve Goals for 2003
10) Get rid of this damned gut, by hook or by crook. I am not entirely averse to liposuction, though I don't think I'll be able to afford it... and I don't want a six-pack or anything like that, I just want to regain an uninterrupted view of my own cock. Hey, I got one!!! Okay, maybe it's not gone completely, but I can see my hip bones and I wriggle comfortably in a 34 waistband again.
12) Be nicer to Grandmother. I wasn't notably nicer to her, but I have been better at not getting angry when she makes me repeat things, and I've learned not to even try to talk to her unless she's looking straight at me and not chewing. I still wish she'd get a hearing-aid though.
What strikes me, though, is that last year's New Year's Eve post was another instance of how I say one thing and then turn right around and do the exact opposite. The hardest kind of honesty for me to achieve is honesty with myself: do I really believe what I'm saying? Do I real feel what I think I'm feeling? Am I really addressing the problem that is at issue, or am I wandering off on an easier-to-tread side-path?
The thing is, though I say I am happy being on my own and celibate, I still want to fall in love with a man and have sex with the man I love and to make a habit out of having sex with that beloved man... a relationship, if you will. Despite all the impracticalities of sharing my jealously-hoarded time and personal space with another human being, aside from all the sexual and emotional hangups that I seem to treasure like Bilbo did the Ring ("It's still in your pocket, Bilbo"..."Well, so it is, how about that?"), regardless of all the logical impossibilities thrown up by my living situation and my pathological fear of rejection, and in complete disagreement with everything I have been known to say on the subject as well as my strong and sincere distaste for falling into such a trite romantic paradigm, I still on many levels just want some man to love me, fuck me, and go on dates with me. And yet, at the same time, I don't.
It really sucks when both sides of a mutually exclusive argument are absolutely true. And the whole love-vs-celibacy thing is just one of the many contradictions that fill my life. I don't even know where to start, or what to do.
Well, we shall see what we shall see. I think for 2004 I'm going to let myself off the hook for real and not expect anything for the year. I'm just going to waddle on through and see what happens. Really let go and actually let God. For though God helps those as helps themselves, I don't seem to have gotten very far with anything I've thought to do... I mean, if this is the best I can do with my life, it's time to turn it over, you know? 'Cuz let me tell you, it may just be the depression talking or it may just be that I'm coming down with a cold, but whichever way you slice it I'm simply not happy right now. And that I want to change in 2004.
So Happy New Year to you, my darling. Wish me luck, for I wish you the best.