Forever he pursues…

To the point

Where he will come to love

Himself

Forever he places desire

In others as he would to himself

Unsuccessful in his endeavor

To replace attention with confidence

To substitute external-regard with self-esteem

Did she not love him enough?

Was it that bad being brought up?

In his eyes, the meaning of loving oneself

Is that of an unattainable, incomprehensible dream

Is it her fault? Did she bring him up to be this?

The question of autonomy versus choice persists

I am a man, another says

I am capable of loving many, he claims

For different reasons, it reflects, for different reasons, it suggests

Maybe his counterpart made him feel less

Maybe he needed to be felt what he views himself as

Or at least… What he, internally, wants to be

Maybe the alternative provides a sense of accomplishment

Possibly a sense of a long-foregone excitement

… Can he not see? Can he not feel?

Or is he always going to put I, before her?

Blinded he is, at that moment in time

Where it all seems to make sense

And he is overwhelmed by the Utopian emotion

—

A word to the wise, it is hard enough to go through it alone, don’t put someone else through it too… Cheater