I first got to know you when I was sixteen, and you were twenty-two. I should have found it strange (just-a-little-bit) that you decide to 'fall-in-love' with someone so much younger. (When you're 22, six years younger is way-too-young). But I did not think about it much as I embarked on the adventure of my first ever 'relationship'. A whole two months of it where only I met you twice, both times with a group of friends. You held my hand (and I, two years shy of experiencing my first kiss, thought it was wonderfully exciting). You spent endless hours on the phone with me. You told me about your life, about all your worries but also that my sheer presence in your life was enough to erase a lifetime (well, err, twenty-two years) of pain. My innocence captivated you, you said. And I believed you. Because I was sixteen (and lamentably innocent), and this was the first time someone was in-love-with-me. Which makes it even more of a pity when you decided, a couple of months down the line, that you could be in love with my best friend. Face to face with the shattered illusions of young love - in a classic Xeb move - (except I realize how typical this is of me much, much later) I cut you out of my life completely only to let you back in once the damage to my ego had healed. Guardedly, I have followed your life - in patches - not really giving you much thought (you were not really worth much thought) except to observe that your fucked-up-life never really got any better. Nor did you get over your propensity to fall completely-totally-utterly in love with multiple women one after another. It's ten years later we're still in touch and - the wonders of modern technology - 'facebook friends'.
I realize today, that the problem with you is that you are a 'love-junkie'. The same pattern dictates your relationships, one-after-another in quick succession. The wonderful thing about you is that you don't discriminate when it comes to your one-true-love. Over the last ten years she has been young, younger, old, older. She has been married (yes, but adultery is only a sin for the married people, and you're still single), she's been divorced, she's been single, she has had a child, she has been a child. The pattern remains steadily predictable, you meet her and you're fascinated. You don't understand how you've lived your life without her. You don't understand how you'll survive the rest of your days if she's not in your life. You want to marry her, because this time it WILL last forever. You realize that there are problems here (you're not single, she's not single, she's not interested, she's got children, she's two continents away) but the difficulties just fan the flames of growing ardour. You talk, because its what you do best, and you spin a quick little world for the two of you where nothing else exists but you. And you reel her inside (and the sheer number of women you've reeled in makes me wonder how stupid the species actually is) and you revel in being 'whole' for the first time in your life.
But 'whole' does not fill the 'hole' within your psyche. Predictably a few months later it's over and you feel like your world is collapsing. You tell everyone how you're on the verge of suicide. Given that you've been 'on the verge' at least forty times (that I know off) in the last ten years, I must say you're very bad at following your urges. But I digress. Last week you said (yet another) final farewell to the 'cruel world', got drunk, got high and promised to end your life, leaving a facebook message to that effect. Today, we (the world at large on facebook) get an status update from you announcing that 'it' has FINALLY happened. You have FINALLY fallen in love. You, I quote, 'feel like superman', because you just met the most 'fantabulous' woman (and you barely believe it, and frankly nor can we) who is in love with you too. Now, you proudly announce, you're happier than you've ever been, more in love than you've ever been and finally (finally) you can look forward to the future with joy. 'She' has saved your life (yet again).
So you screw around with women who are probably 18 years old (to your 32) and too sheltered and naive to realize what you are. You have no compunctions about who you hurt, and why, as long as the current object of your 'love' is playing with you in the way you want her to. Possibly, the worst thing about you - and what distinguishes you from the 'real' players in the field - is that you honestly, genuinely, completely believe what you're saying. So, you're misguided, emotionally weak and not much of a 'man' at all. But darling, I have to admit, you are very, very entertaining! :P