Just plain sex is better than falling in love.
If you’re the romantic type of person who believes that the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return, then you better stop reading. ‘Cause I’m telling you, what you’re gonna read on the next few lines ain’t gonna be pretty.
All this crap about finding your happily ever after is just plain bullshit that Disney cartoons and chick flick movies which starred Katherine Heigl or Ryan Gosling instilled in our minds. We get so caught up on this ideal plots that our lives can be like movies wherein two strangers will bump into each other as they catch the same train or something then they’ll grab a coffee and realized they have similar interests, then after a few days they’re having drinks and formal dates, soon they’ll be saying “I love yous” and started planning their future together and eventually a misunderstanding will occur, the lover walks out, and the other lover is left behind. And the other lover did nothing but listen to the radio station each night and the other one is cursing the other with a bottle of beer, and little do they know they’d end up being strangers again.
That’s reality. That’s the fucking cycle.
I’m telling you, sex is better than falling in love. Having sex with another person only requires physical attraction, nothing more. No emotional attachment required, you just communicate with how you want things in bed (or not), you’re not obliged to hold each other after doing it, you just need to look for someone who can do the deed with you when both your time permits it and someone you don’t have to worry about eating breakfast with and you’d go on the next day feeling satisfied about yourself.
Having sex is WAY better than falling in love. Everything is just casual, like some two friends giving each other a high-five when they agreed on something, like when your boss gives you a pat on the back when you’ve done well with your presentation, or like shaking hands after a great game. It should be that easy and breezy! That’s the ideal, that’s how things should roll.
Unlike being in love. No matter how big your love is, and no matter how you’ve poured your heart and efforts for the relationship, that doesn’t guarantee that this person is never gonna hurt you. It’s not like, your heart is some stupid microwave you bought in the store where it offers a warranty that when it’s broken, you’d get a new one. It’s the bittersweet of living a life with the belief that love is all that matters. You’d go on and telling yourself, a door closes but a window also opens, oh come on! Are you fucking kidding me right now??? Neither doors or windows even goddam gates are gonna open for you because that person burned the house down already! Nothing’s left but smoke and cinders.
I’m not saying that I’d start entertaining booty calls or whatever you wanna call it. All I’m saying is, I’m done with the idea of love making the world go round and lifts us up to cloud 9 because you’d be surprised one day, you’ll see yourself hitting the pavement face-first. I’m done with thinking that everything’s gonna be alright and someday someone is gonna make things right because it’s never gonna happen, not for me.
This isn’t me being bitter and mad about it. Okay fine, maybe. I don’t care. I don’t give a fuck anymore. This is me finally embracing the truth that all these stupid fairy tales are full of filthy shit and one more fucking love song and I’m gonna throw up and punch my fist on the wall.