Damaged Goods
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I used to think that I was the most damaged of goods upon the planet.
However, there are those even more whiny and crybaby than I all the while touting their alleged vast social superiority in my face.
The results of failed marriages and other relationships sometime leave us bitter and apparently feeling used ... often unable to relate to anyone remotely interested later and resulting in this control freak persona that simply cannot work in the presence of free wheeling intellect and massive experiential world inventory.
The tedium associated with trying to effectively communicate with another so utterly unable to read between the lines of interpersonal relationships to the point that everything is a abject hostile confrontation to the nth degree and as offputting as absolutely possible leads to somewhat severe consequences in the world of others and their spheres of existence.
It is a difficult matter to attribute Kierkegaard’s aesthetic, ethical, and religious connotations to a flippant secular immensely spooky emotionally labile human being. So all psychosocial bullshit aside, that which remains available is an attitude of "parting company" and that act of "being done" with all remaining failed interaction and indeed, this should be sufficient in all subsequent matters.
Be all of this as it may, some baggage typically remains and the parting of company is difficult in the presence of what are considered "feelings" no matter how trivial they are considered by any other said to be significant.
Suffice it to say "I'm done" because in the end I have a low tolerance for whiny ass bullshit.
Not wishing company in life — for any reason — comes with both it's own set of problems and rewards ... but how you comport yourself in the navigation of such a reality is telling and foretelling.
What you do tomorrow depends upon what you do today.