As I move deeper into my 30's, I increasingly find myself looking back on my early 20's as though it was a lifetime ago. It almost feels like I'm remembering a different person altogether. Mostly I just see the fuck ups. So much regret. Why did I do all those things? Why did I hurt others? Why did I allow myself to be in positions where I could be hurt? The flowery and romantic answer is love. The blunt and cynical answer is sex. Either way, the things a human being will put themselves through for that connection are insane. We will deliberately hurt others and deliberately hurt ourselves just for the possibility of love/sex. Is it too much to imagine that the hurt can then become part of the overall experience? With all those different feelings and impulses swimming around at the same time it's easy for wires to get crossed. Is that how a fetish/addiction is born? And then suddenly it is the thing that rules you. Suddenly you can't have one without the other. Thankfully I was able to emerge from the wreckage of my 20's relatively unscathed. It's all in the rearview now, growing more distant each day.
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