Ed is an Asshole

I have a hard time letting go of the past. Mostly because the past is a memory. Memories exist only in our imaginations, and imagination is where I thrive. In my imagination I’m the supreme ruler of an entire universe designed to meet my every need, regardless of how childish, shortsighted, or cruel these needs may be; it doesn’t matter, these needs are not questioned.  

Hello Sir, would you like a plate of spaghetti and meatballs with an ice cream Sunday and cherry on top? At your service, Sir. Would you like to take every dish in your neighbor’s kitchen and smash them on the sidewalk to alleviate the pain of feeling wronged yet not have to pay a fine for destruction of property or have the relationship with your neighbor suffer any ill consequences and still have every dish in your cupboard remain unharmed? Of course, Sir, no problem. Would you like to eat and drink until you’re fit to burst yet never be faced with your own excrement and waste? Of course, Sir, you are a God. Nothing is too large a task when it is only a pleasure to be at your service…

Why wouldn’t I want to spend all my time in this glorious place? A dark Disney World serving buffets of coke, boy holes on tap in my bedroom, chicks with dicks stuffing my face full, tying people up, no consent needed!  Isn’t this every teenage white boy’s angry wet dream? Yes, mine too.

So, let’s talk about your hair… I know of no man with hair like that. If anything could be pointed to as to why I might need to touch and feel you so badly it’s that hair of yours. Like cornsilk and sunshine, strands of the sparkling cosmos knit into a dream of a warm and welcoming blanket, wrapping me up in love, forgiveness, understanding… finally I can rest. I’ve waited so long… just to be at rest. You promised me. I want it for me!! I want to pull it! I want to cut it. I want to own it. Please don’t leave me. I know you want me, too!!!!!!

OK. Deep breaths. I need to try to embrace reality if I want to stay out of prison. I’m trying to learn. I’m trying to adjust. I’m trying to understand. I want to be well. 

Let me try to dial it back to the truth, as painful as that may be… She wanted to be with me. She dreamed we were perfect for each other. She believed we could make it work. A long time ago she willingly entered my world because she thought we could bridge the gap. I was drunk with that power. I thought I had finally made it, finally on my Throne, her bowing at my feet, only to realize she didn’t want to be ruled by a dictator, she wanted to be loved.