“To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.” – Bertrand Russell, Marriage and Morals
It’s all he really sought.
The certitudes of power games beyond the touch of anything like love —
And he had always found the ones who still believed;
The having of them, simple, as
They gave and gave without those second thoughts
That haunted him if he thought he was losing —
But money’s curse:
To have enough that others use you for it –
This happened to him, finally, as he,
Who thought he understood the rules, found out.
There’s nothing so pathetic
As an aging man who does not know what to do
When the women attracted to him are no longer
Young, or drunk, or (preferably) both.
He never understood the mechanism
That attracted these women to him,
So he missed it’s passing.
And now he knows,
The realization blinding as the sunrise:
He can always pay for companionship,
But now he only gets the kind that
He, previously, gave —
And wow, what power.
To know his companion only wants what he has,
This must have been what…
What was her name? ..
That night she cried as she packed —
Hangovers are so much harder than they used to be
And God, he feels old