Tag Archives: jealousy

Bad Things Happen (to Kids That Fuck)

"Bad Things Happen (to Kids That Fuck)." 8/11/14. Ink. 5x7".
“Bad Things Happen (to Kids That Fuck).” 8/11/14. Ink. 5×7″.

Whether we’re talking VD, getting slashed to pieces by a hockey-masked killer, or EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT, it’s clear that bad things happen to kids that fuck.

I’m pretty pleased with how clever that title and I are but this piece is kind of shitty. Like the others in this series, it’s pretty angry and that bums me out. This one’s about trust; it says:

I think it’s strange when people are inherently untrusting of others. Your mom said you shouldn’t trust me. Which is funny ‘cause I put my trust in most everyone but have grown to trust you less and less. I can’t remember the last time I came to be suspicious of so many of the things someone said to me. I don’t think you’re a bad person; I don’t think you have ill intent. But you’re so guarded, it makes you dishonest. It sucks.

The relationship with the girl detailed in these four drawings ended in August but I’m sad to report that my distrust didn’t. I carried it forward with me into my next relationship. In the past, if the girl I was dating wanted to go out to do something I wasn’t interested in, my response was simply “have fun – see you when you get home.” I don’t wanna be solely responsible for anyone’s social life anyway and I value time to myself. So when she goes out without me, we both win. In my last relationship though…

(Actually, let me just take a moment to cut the shit. I left Chicago a week ago but this relationship that I “walked away from” is ongoing; it’s not over).

So in my current relationship, I’ve responded differently. When Nicole wants to go out, I get suspicious. I’m afraid there’s something going on. That she’s going to be flirting with someone or worse. Has she done things that have sparked jealousy or suspicion? Sure. But she hasn’t ever actually done anything to warrant distrust. Which means that my jealousy and suspicion aren’t really justified. And that sucks. I don’t want to be some “jealous boyfriend.” That’s never been me in the past and it’s not who I wanna be now.

This isn’t the kind of distrust or the kind of lies to which this drawing refers but that shit doesn’t feel relevant anymore so I’d rather write about what is. It’s all the same anyway insofar as not being able to believe the things someone says to you is awful. And like I said, I’m so accustomed to just trusting everyone, having faith in people, and assuming the best that my newfound distrust is especially disconcerting. It’s negatively impacted my entire outlook.

I don’t really know what’s going to happen with Nicole and I, but I am going back to Chicago on Thursday. If we try to give it another go, I’m going to ignore my negative impulses and just put my trust in her. I’m going to have to have faith in her. If it doesn’t work out though – for whatever reason – I think maybe my next relationship ought to be with someone where trust comes more naturally. That is, assuming I’m not totally broken and that I’m still capable of real, genuine trust. At this point, the problem may not have anything to do with anyone but me. I genuinely don’t know one way or the other.


When Nicole and I first started seeing each other, I recycled this drawing’s title to caption a photo that I posted on Instagram.


The caption read: “Sexy adventures in creepy abandoned waterfront factories. (BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO KIDS THAT FUCK). My life is awesome.”

Here’s to hoping my legal problems and relationship issues are soon resolved and that statement becomes true again.

Perfect Love / Exit Bag

"Perfect Love / Exit Bag." 10/31/12. Tempera, colored pencil, oil pastel. 12x18".
“Perfect Love / Exit Bag.” 10/31/12. Tempera, colored pencil, oil pastel. 12×18″.

“Perfect love” (to me) isn’t just unconditional love; it’s bigger than that and it’s greater (or wider) than any kind of romantic love. It’s a total respect for the entirety of another human being. It doesn’t have any room for jealousy or anything like that.

I really like the word “cupidity.” Technically, it’s an excessive desire to possess something (like money or materials things). Given the connotations of “cupid” though, I like to think of it as more of an excessive desire to possess someone. It’s sort of the opposite of perfect love. When I meet a girl, I have a tendency to go from one extreme to the other. One minute, I might be totally enamored or infatuated with her and then – the second I fear that she might not reciprocate (if she’s paying more attention to someone else, for example) – I’ll totally shut off absolutely all feeling and cease to care about her in any way at all. And then – the moment my fear is somehow allayed – a switch flips and I’m one-hundred percent invested in her again.

I’ve never been what you’d call a jealous or possessive boyfriend. I’m not bothered by my girlfriend going out without me, having male friends, or anything like that, but I think that’s because – once she’s “officially” my girlfriend – my cupidity is sated. That’s all the “possession” I need to feel okay, but that’s still a problem. It’s still not okay with me that I (feel like I) need that at all.

Last October, I was in treatment and I liked a girl but I knew it was a bad idea for me to get involved. So I was trying to have a genuine friendship with her. I was trying to practice this concept of “perfect love” that I had in my head. I was trying to be real and authentic and honest, and to value and respect her as an independent human being. It was a totally different dynamic (and experience) than my usual approach of (still trying to be honest but primarily) trying to get her to like me (or want to be my girlfriend or want to sleep with me). I wanted my behavior to reflect perfect love, which meant acting without any expectation, desire, or even hope of receiving anything in return.

On Halloween, she was having a problem and – after coming to me for help – she went to someone else. “What – I’m not enough? My help wasn’t good enough? What’s happening!?”–I thought. I didn’t show any of this outwardly, but the switch flipped and I immediately ceased to have any interest in this girl. My feelings were hurt so I was going to stop caring. …Because I wasn’t the only person that she shared her problem with…

And it’s worse than that even. In these situations, I don’t usually stop caring about the girl alone – more often than not, I also stop caring about myself. Suddenly, I’m a worthless unlovable piece of shit and there’s no reason for me to be alive. (My attempt at perfect love was an abysmal failure).

This all happened just before expressive art therapy group. An “exit bag” is a homemade suicide device. To make one, you need a helium tank, an oven bag, a piece of string, some tape, and a tube. I felt like I wanted to die, but I knew that I didn’t really and I wasn’t ready to talk about my feelings because I probably wasn’t ready to feel better. I needed to punish myself by stewing in misery for a little bit longer. Writing “helium, bag, string, tape, and tube” here was my way of saying “I WANT TO DIE” without having to deal with anyone’s response to a statement like that.

Because so much of what I was experiencing as I made this piece so perfectly exemplifies (/is symptomatic of) borderline personality disorder, I came to see the ghost that I drew here as sort of a stand-in for BPD. He’s in at least five of my pieces (including a tattoo). Once I have more of those online, I’ll probably do a special post just to feature him in all his different forms. (That sounds like fun to me). : )