They say a man’s love is his life, some say a man’s heart is where his stomach or reproductive organs are. I believe that love is his life. I’ve learned through personal experience that a man may have a tough exterior, but a rather soft and giving interior. But we already know this, now don’t we? So, why is this important? I am going to elaborate on how delicate the tender-hearted man really is through personal experiences, reflections and insights. I won’t beat around the bush.
Blatantly, is like a rose bush. He grows through the cold nights and protects himself from those who would eat his branches by creating thorns; Being careful not to let anyone in. Eventually he will come to love everything around him, the sun which gives him energy, the rain which quenches his thirst and finally, the beautiful gardener who pampers him with the utmost care. However, it can be so that this gardener will rob him of all his roses, all of his love, and leave nothing but thorns and the unsightly stems and vines of his shrub.
Out of desire to feel the greatness of love and care, he will created buds once more wanting to be vibrant and brilliant again. And yet, comes the same gardener, or a new one, it does not matter, to take away those beautiful products of love and radiance. His roses, now gone, only to leave a husk of what he was.
This is the relationship of women who mistreat the few good men left of our gender, only to belittle us and berate us of how we are so cruel to them. Who really is to blame? Women treat the men horribly because of that they are just like that rose bush of which I spoke? And then men, who in turn get treated this way, reflect what their past lovers did. Even so, if it is not to reflect the past, it is to protect themselves; hoping they won’t get hurt again.
I am one of those men, who had so much to offer a woman, only to be thrown in the mud, trampled on and left to be broken. So many have tried to fix me, and yet I only came to be what I swore I would not be. A player, a liar, and a cold man who won’t let anyone in. I have been called all these things and have been all of these. You might be angry and say “Sure, blame it on what’s happened to you, others have had it worse than you and they have come out alright.” Have they really? Do you honestly know every little detail of what I went through, or for what any man went through for that matter? Even so, some have a higher tolerance of pain than others, what makes you think that others may not have a mental illness?
A concluding point, love is a gambit. How is that so? A man may have a relationship with a woman and be completely at her feet adoring her for everything she is. While the woman is not so interested in him initially. She would only break his heart upon breakup and leave him scarred. This is a hidden variable in my explanation of a man. Believe what you will. My heart is taped together and not healing. It’s been that way for a long while. I gave my heart completely to someone, leaving no quarter for mystery within me. She knew everything about me. We were happy. And she left me, leaving me only a cold and bitter husk of what I once was. My friends said I had changed, that I was an asshole, always keeping to myself, speaking very little, and lashing out at others. The interesting thing about that was - I never noticed it.
It’s been a year and a half since then, I am still trying to heal, only to no avail. I am still very confused about myself, and still very hurt. I don’t know what I was trying to say in this essay I guess you would call it. It’s just like a diary entry I guess, while I waited to pass the time to use the internet.