I don't intentionally set out to sound depressing, it just always seems to head that way

i wrote this on Sunday morning - it sounds very hopeless - but really my thoughts are in a process of shifting.

all the champagne from the wedding and the beer from the open bar caught up with me. i fell asleep a little after 3:45, if my memory serves me correctly. i didn't even bother washing up or anything beforehand. i just stumbled into the bedroom, shut the door, stripped off my dress clothes and curled up on the couch.

i had a hard time going to sleep, so i went into the bathroom to take some Benadryl in the hopes that it would knock me out until a reasonable waking hour. when i came back into the bedroom (which is my mother's office) i switched off the lights and sprawled out on the couch to wait for the diphenhydramine to kick in.

as i lay there staring at the ceiling, i began notice the now fading glow-in-the-dark universe that was plastered across the ceiling. the stars were part of an art project and my mom took them and put them up. my eyes wandered back and forth across the ceiling as my mind slowly began to notice the particular locations of the various illuminated comets, stars and planets around the room. eventually my eyes were drawn to a familiar grouping of stars that were placed above the doorway to the bedroom. i climbed off the couch and made my way over to the corner of the room to take a closer look at the 'constellation' that was created. there before me, nearly as visible as on the day i created it, were the initials of my first real girlfriend, written out in a way that only i will ever be able to pick out.

as i stood there in the darkness, thinking back on all the twists and turns my romantic life has taken over the last few years. i climbed back into my makeshift bed and started thinking about what truth(s) i could pull from this brief stroll down memory lane.

of course i can't speak for everyone, but i am fairly sure that most people's love lives are relatively similar to my own. each and every one of us carries with us a collection of emotional relics that serve to remind us how much we have have learned (or haven't learned, in my case) since our last heartbreak. most of the time we aren't even aware that they are still with us, but they are. all it takes is one simple reminder to prove, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that regardless of how much personal growth we go through in any given period of time, the inner-workings of every romantic relationship we will ever take part in will always be essentially the same. eventually we will all get fucked over by someone we care about, or vice versa. at every given step of the way, heartbreak is always an unavoidable reality. you can't even intentionally avoid it. you can only change the way in which you deal with it, which isn't very reassuring. there are no absolutes in love, and there never will be. whatever is meant to happen is going to happen, and there isn't a fucking thing you can do to change it. and i think that's what bothers me so much about the whole fucking concept of love.