Symbiote

Something in me is convinced that I will be alone for the rest of my life. I can't recall any relationship I've been able to maintain beyond a certain half life. Everything decays and rots away despite my most concerted efforts to infuse something of hope and love into them. Little by little, step by step, the relationships which I value and hold highest above all else fade away from vision, leaving me standing solitary in a field of my own insecurities and neurosis. Everything, everything, EVERYTHING that I've ever had in my hands has crumbled and fallen apart, no matter what. I can trace the threads back in time and describe and account of the sum of events which led to the same place I find myself in today. It's all cyclical, cicular, endless repetition, looping and iterating unto itself into infinity. It's an inevitable set of patterns, which is forever doomed to repeat itself because I am an eternally flawed and failed human being. Each time, I invest myself into a relationship with a single person, whom I hold above all others, in an idolized, almost godlike position. And for a while, my adulation is rewarded, appreciated, applauded, valued, appreciated, desired. And it is reciprocated and returned and removes and shadows which lurk in my mind and I am at peace, for a time. And then it happens. Like clockwork; the gears slip a bit, rust settles in, and the rot which began at the core begins to spread outwards and festering. It buds and builds and rises and falls and develops into a catastrophic tidal wave. Misunderstandings build to arguments which leads to shouting matches which end with heartache. But it never just ends with a few harsh tongue lashings and strewn feelings. It leads to the same tragic, terrible end, whence all of the same misery and heartache begins - my idol, my center, removes itself completely from my core, piercing directly and poignantly into the place hollowed in my soul for which the idol occupied. It is removed, taken away and leaves me stripped, naked, bare, bleeding with open wounds with no chance of recovery or stabilization. And I return to the same beginning state, the state of roaming catharsis, seeking the next victim to form my trademarked symbiotic relationship with, a new creature to latch upon to regain the sustenance of my previous life.