Incest Not of Appalachia

Like the winds of time, their eyes doth turn
In spite of themselves, they turn to others
What they do not have, what makes them shiver
You have what they want. Not what they need.

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I'm cursed with a "want" to please everybody around me. In recent years, this has waned a bit, having procured the experience to know the age old wisecrack "You can't please everybody" to be a true statement. You please some people, you disappoint others in the process. If you truly want to please everybody, don't do anything. Just sit in solitude playing cards in front of a fire in the woods.

Yet, this curse persists. I hate confrontation, yet I seem to find it regularly. If you take a lover, you're most likely breaking the heart of the recently separated past partner. If you happen to find yourself as a sloppy seconds to that same partner on more than one occasion . . . well, that's another story entirely.

Welcome to the Incestuous Circle.

I've found myself within these corridors of chaos more often than I care to count. If you have a co-ed group of friends, you're most likely going to sleep with one of them in your lifetime. If you're like me . . . I've found that most of the women I've had relations with have tended to bond together after the fact. Women from different circles, mind you. It's like a mass convention of post-Peter Moose Lodge VFW Veterans talking about life after the War, yet never talking of the War. You are non-existent in their conversation, most likely in their mind's eye, at that. If you bring it up to them they either seem startled and confused ("When did we . . . Oh! Right!") or downright insulted.

I'm not alluding to any notion that I've slept with countless amounts of women. I've dabbled, yes, but, it's a normal number. I just happen to have held minor courtship with most of my friends. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Picture the clown shrugging his shoulders . . .

When I reach a point where I'm out of the chaos and can relish in the friendship I hold with each of these lovers, it brings a smile to my face. It's funny and strange. "Yikes!" comes to mind. There's always a reasonable explanation.

In this case, there's one girl who was the cause . . .

She is a matchmaker. Having people meet others in full blown, unmasked dating hopefulness. This can be dangerous, I've found. A couple of my friends are matchmakers. It gets dangerous when these people are also introduced to a mass amount of friends, the matchmaker's group. You happen to be part of this group. You meet these matched up pairs knowing full well they are untouchable. But they carry the aura of one who is fully submerged in the dating world, so that if they happen to have their hold relinquished by the one they've been paired up with . . . well, it was never meant to be. Maybe it's better this way.

I've now done this twice to a friend. I know him to be the "former lover". I haven't hung out with him outside of large party events. So, I imagine it puts him in a tough spot. "I'm a thief," says my insecurity. But really? Everything's legal, right? I haven't traipsed on a clause detailing punishment for breaching a post-breakup agreement twice in a row, have I?

Alright, to make this incestuousness come full circle this man would have to date or become involved somehow with one of my past lovers. Within this group, though, they're all taken, currently. Taken with partners better than I, to tell the truth.

So, I can't help him in that regard. I guess a few beers out of my pocket will have to do . . .

Girls -- "Hellhole Ratrace"