For All Mankind

So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
So lose some sleep and say you tried.
-- Autosuggestion, Joy Division

I have never, ever, been in the company of a woman that looked better in a pair of g-string panties than Ananta. When I met her at the tail end of summer, when the leaves were turning, and the days were getting shorter, I thought my prayers had been answered. She was lovely. I would walk down the street with her, and other women couldn't take their eyes off of her. She looked incredible in Seven jeans, and even better in a little black dress, with just a hint of makeup. There was no one that looked like Ananta, she was unique, in a universe of sameness. She could cook too, god could she cook. But despite her many talents, some that I have outlined here, and others that are unmentionable, I had to end things last night.

This worries me. What will it take to feel happiness again. To feel comfortable waking up beside someone else. I have had the nagging feeling that things were not right for sometime. I tried everything to love Ananta, but the truth is, I am full of anger and hate.

There is no love.