Quick! Quick!

In my ongoing Internet crush with PostSecret.com I'm constantly provoked, entertained and utterly depressed by the cards that flood in every week.

It's like the online version of the homeless people I see on the off ramps from time to time. About the only guy I give to on a consistent basis is one close to home who isn't screwing around. He's out in all weather and occasionally has a sign that has two words: Utter Hopelessness.

I urge everyone to rush over to the site right now before the Valentine's Day posts vanish into the digital ether.

They seem to break down into two camps - those who have broken hearts in the past and those who had their hearts broken.

It's a pretty interesting study in humanity, both in terms of resiliency and self-absorption. Those who are putting things back together are pretty positive and those who left someone have been pretty hard on themselves.

I think it's a fairly common reaction to assume that once you leave someone, they'll be ruined for life. After all, how could he or she possibly survive without the wonder that is you in their lives anymore?

Without your constant affection and guidance, how do they find the strength to drag their tired and world-weary souls from bed every morning? How have they kept a job with all of the binge drinking that they're undoubtedly doing to try and wipe any last memory of you from their restless minds and cold, empty hearts?

I don't doubt that there are people out there who really have put someone through hell and caused damage that won't be soon forgotten. I've dated women who were pretty banged up after their last relationship and I was pretty worthless for a time after my college girlfriend and I parted ways, but not many people quit living and give up, no matter how much pressure we like to put on ourselves to feel guilty about our roles in those bad situations.

The point is that while we're the centers of our respective worlds, we rarely cause irreparable damage. I just hope that the posts that have gone up over there are the result of fresh breaks and teenaged love affairs and not people who are in more serious trouble.

I think the person who admits that they "Don't fuck so good" is the only one with real problems. Real problems, people.

(Image from: HamiltonSpectator.com)