Good afternoon Knuckleheads. It's a lovely day here in the middle of fucking Knuckleville. I sit here with a glass full of kerosene, smoking a tree trunk, and pondering at that has fallen behind me, and flops in front of me in this journey I call life.
It always brings me back to the same word that makes the world spin, wars happen when it's not present, and smile spread like crabs in a locker room.
Love.
Yeah, yeah, yeah..."But, Knuckles, you've covered this topic to death."; Well, if that were true, then those of you that read my blog should be in happy relationships that have no issues, and you should live loving and fruitful lives. Right? No? Well, then shut the fuck up, sit down, and enjoy this eyegasm I'm about to unleash upon you.
Because, after a little thought, and reflection, I realized that love is a lot like a game of chess. It's turn based. You move, they move, you move, they move. It's give and take. The only difference is, no one should be playing to win, and the person that moves two or three times in a row, doesn't win, but is actually the loser. Why? Because the other person doesn't care enough to take their turn. So, what happens is, you keep moving and moving, but the other person gets up, goes and plays checkers or Xbox with someone else, and you're sat at your board, wondering why you're locked into this game, with someone that doesn't really want to play with you to begin with.
You see, you should never retool your life for someone, unless their actions support the effort. Would that person make those same overwhelming efforts that you make, that mirror your effort? Move for Move? If not, reevaluate your approach, and ask yourself the hard questions. "Am I putting more into this chess match than I'm getting out?" "Does this person take their turns after I take mine? Or, if they see that they've waited so long between turns, that I've taken three, so they step up and take three themself?" "Is it really worth it to continue playing, if I'm just playing by myself?"
When you get to be my age, relationships are far more important than when you're younger. You pick and choose more wisely. It's not based upon just one or two factors, but a list of things. You are, in fact, choosing a life mate, and not just a one night stand. So, you want the person on the receiving end of your attention to put as much into it as you do. And, if you're being a chump personally, then you need to realize that a plant doesn't grow without nourishment and water, so when it dies from lack of attention, who is the one to blame? You are. You fucking dildo.
To walk around holding someone's hand to me is the symbol of love and happiness. When you want to feel connected to the person you're walking with, even though they are inches away, speaks volumes to me. You want to feel their touch, their warmth, their existence, in the palm of your hand. It's the same when you sleep next to a person you love. You feel them breathe. You wake them up when having a nightmare. You are there for them, and they are there for you. An adult relationship is about depth, involvement, and support. It's about supplying what the other person needs, desires, and requires to stay happy. But, it's a two way street, and you should expect that same effort in return. So, don't do one big thing, and think that's good for the year...no, it's about small, strategic moves that give the sense of comfort. It's about action, and effort, and words, and communication. (can't stress that last one enough) Don't run from things that are important to the survival of your love. No, stand tall, and face it with open arms. Because, the conciliation prize in the world of Love, is not as pretty.
Just remember; Friends, pets, jobs, bills, politics, and other skulduggery are not nearly as important as having someone there for you to cry on their shoulder, feel their breath on your neck while you sleep, plan your future with, and most of all, to hold your hand as you take your last breath on this Earth.
Above all, don't be a fuckhole. No one likes a fuckhole.
Honestly yours,
Knuckles
