Stoic

I am a twenty-first century Stoic. I must remember that. Unavoidable, necessary pain is to be borne without complaint. I'm not sure if it's necessary, but it's certainly unavoidable, by now. Could I have done things to avoid it in the past? Well, yeah. But I refuse to regret my idiocy when it hurt only me. When it hurt others, yeah, that I regret. But I'm done focusing on it. Those who haven't forgiven me probably never will. I guess this is what 'learning the hard way' means. You lose something you'll never get back, but you learn how expensive that mistake is. Stoicism. Stoic. Stoic as a rock. I don't bleed, I don't cry. I don't feel. I certainly don't miss the last one, the one who gave me the boot right after my miscarriage. No, not at all. Why would I miss an impatient alcoholic, someone who had no interest in being with me, helping me, and god forbid, me helping him? I don't miss Bump. Whaddaya whaddaya, only a fetus. Don't be stupid. I'm better off. I'm not tied to Assface McAbandonment, I'm not... inconvenienced in my life by a child. No labor pains. I'm fine. Do I regret always running from something difficult? No. What would be so great about having completed school, having a steady job. all the mod cons in an apartment, and my own life? This will make me stronger. Earning those things, after being a fuckup, will make them all the more sweet. And being alone? Good for me. Builds character. The time I'd spend conversing happily with someone I connect with is better spent reading. Instead of sweaty worship, instead of mapping out another's body with my eyes lit inside from desire, I stay caught up on laundry. Maybe now and then, I get a platonic hug. Maybe I'll go to the bar, get free drinks, false promises, and a clinical fuck from a person whose body doesn't feel right. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.