love

Greg and I. Nothing Really Matters


I keep rewinding our conversation with Gregthat Friday evening. The man of my dreams, the vegan restaurant, the downtown hectic of dark Saint Pete, butterflies in my stomach from our eye contact, and the elbows on the wobbly outdoor table.   

          Let’s assume you are right, once we peel off all the layers of our personalities, we disappear. What is the point of living than?
          There is no point. Life is meaningless, Greg.
          And everything we see is the illusion, created by our mind…
          Yep.  
          Interesting. It does not seem to bother you at all…
          It cannot bother me since there is no such thing as myself.
          Vixen, according to your theory, our mind creates ourselves.
          Our mind creates a myriad of personalities based on societal programming; each personality identifies itself as MYSELF.
          But I am who I am, I have certain principles that define me as the real true self.
          I bet we would not even have this conversation if you had a toothache. The suffering personality would not focus on existentialism, honesty, and dating your Vixen. The world would shrink to the necessity to take Tylenol ASAP. Your real true self with your certain principles that your mind previously generated would not exist.

He had that weird look on his face, the mixture of disbelief and sincere interest. I gave him a smile and continued. – Dealing with the non-existence is easy, stop associating yourself with your mind, and you will sense that nothing really matters.

          Not even my feelings for you? – he leaned towards me. I felt dizzy, happily light-headed.
          Your mind created myself, Greg. You want to see me in love with you, and you get that.
          I like the illusion. Let’s fuck.
          The non-existent-you wants to fuck the non-existent-me, how does it sound?
          I do not care
          BINGO, – I was ready to jump with excitement, –  Did you get what you’ve just said? It does not matter to you…
          You are crazy, Vixen, but you make me hard, this is what really matters.   
          It only matters to one of million personalities that your mind keeps devising. If I push your buttons, and the erection is lost, another personality will pop up, the one that won’t be horny.
          You are REALLY crazy, shut up and let’s go, – it was easy and pleasurable to give in. I stood up and quietly followed him to his car.

We argued that night, he left angry, and disappeared for several months. I proceeded with my life accepting the fact that nothing really matters.  

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