You'll find someone who deserves you...

How many of us have heard that over the years??? (or some derivation of it)

It's almost as incredibly cliche as "It's not you, it's me" (and just to point out, of course it's you, you self-centered prick who cant keep his dick in his pants long enough to actually try to maintain something meaningful with someone who [formerly] worshiped you!!!!)... sorry about that little rant, it's not targeted at anyone in particular, just a little venting on my part, for all those who have heard those cursed words!

I guess I've just heard "you deserve so much more" too many times now. It's my heart, and my love to give, YOU do not get to tell me who I should love. If I love you, then I LOVE YOU, telling me I deserve someone else is just you flaking out. It's not going to change the way I feel about you.

So my advice to anyone who wants to break up with their partners... do not say anything along those lines. It's unfair to them. Grow a pair, and be the dick that you clearly are (unless you have good cause to break up with them, in which case I recommend some scissors and an escape route). If you try to be the nice guy when breaking up with someone, it just ends up hurting more... so if you're going to break their heart, cut them deep... at least this way they can hate you and work on getting over it.

I've become such a cynic... there was a time once (not too long ago!) where love and romance were the biggest drives in my life, they softened the harsh world that we live in. Now, I see cheats and liars everywhere, unhappy relationships, broken homes and good people having their hearts ripped out by the shallow.

If Shakespeare were alive today, I'm sure he would have something to say about the state of love in our world. What is it about humanities obsession with completely destroying everything that was once good??? Remember Shakespeare's words, in my favorite piece of literature, Sonnet 116:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Ohh such words used to move me right down to my core... now I read them with a detached sense of loss. It saddens me.

The world has become a cold place indeed.