I wasn't running from love but I wasn't looking forward to find it either. Being in love was an ambiguous feeling to me as I lived the closes thing I had to a love life one night at a time.
I never cursed other people's relationships, their battles for finding their so called soul mate or their need to share their lives with someone else, and even thought I think those people are brave for facing the pain caused by the heartbreak when all of their fantasies fall into the cruel reality, I never wished to be that brave.
Life takes its turns and twists. Mine was full of nights even longer than my already long days as a different girl kept me awake every other night. Evidently, I don't run down the streets of Sydney yelling this out so the world can hear me. I know that my choices would please very little people, disgusting a whole lot of them. I know that many would even call me a fuckboy but I don't believe I fit into that category. A guy like that would play with someone else's feeling, would lead them on and in the end break them emotionally and psychologically, making them believe they will never find someone better and that they're worth nothing. I am not that kind of guy and I never wanted to be no matter what people think they know about me. Every time I get involved with someone they know that the only thing that can come out of that one night is sex. I never promise anything beyond that, the girls I get involved with know it and are only looking for that.
For those who believe I am a complete and utter asshole for using girls, I think it's only fair to say that girls use me too. It is mutual agreement so I guess it makes up for the ugly side of the story, in a way and for some reason, I hope it does.
Just like death, my days of solemnly believing my goal was the benefits of being someone's boyfriend without being tied to someone started counting down the night I met Sandra. She was the bridge to the person whose eyes managed to see past the way I saw myself and taught me the hardest way that sometimes being free doesn't mean you're not tied or living in a cage and being tied isn't necessarily a bad thing.
I learned the hard way that being tied can also mean being free... until my fantasies fell into the cruel reality.