The Fool and The Temptress

I am the fool. I act foolishly. I almost ask for ridicule, and most certainly do in my own mind. I went back. I NEVER go back. But I went back to a girl with shom I fell in love. She fooled the fool, and that is why I am The Fool. True to my name, I thought she was also in love - that she would leave her man friend, a man who was victimizing her in every way, from the day they met - according to MY definition - hers was different, and I don't know the veracity of these facts, but nevertheless trusted and believed them nevertheless, mainly because I fell head over heels for her the moment I laid eyes on her. She was, admitedly, a prostitute. That didn't bother me, however. I know things. Things like the way muscles work; things about prostitutes; things about such a life. It doesn't bother me. Not one bit. What bothers me is how it plays out, but more importantly, that FACT that I should've known better. I have dated prostitutes in the past, and when I say dated, I mean I didn't pay for their sex, per se. All men pay for sex, one way or another. But, I didn't pay her for sex with money, directly. Instead, I paid with my heart, and that is the truly unfortunate thing. As a former banker, and jurisdoctor, I sacrificed much of my heart for money and power - in that order. I have or had very little heart left to give anyone, let alone myself, and especially not to someone who was going to glibly consume it as an appetizer before going to her fucked up boyfriend. Whatever the case, when the news broke - that she'd picked this abuser over me, ME (!) who is better looking, smarter, faster, richer, and a full magnitude above the loser she was with, I was devastated. I mean she leveled me. But, by the same measure, I let it happen. I gave over to her the very last biut of soul I had. And she ate it without thinking twice. Well, I returned, as a secret admirer. I recently began messaging her, sending love messages to her, offering gifts and other enticements...which lasted all of about two days. Before I knew it, I had jumped the gun, and my articulation (and me, personally) gave me away. I came out and asked if she knew who it was...she did. And, once again, she burned me to the ground. How could I have guessed she'd do it? Again? Easily - she did it once. And this is feeling like and ugly life lesson. The lesson being identical to that story about the scorpion and the chicken and the road. The scorpion hitches his ride on the back of the chicken, who agrees after the scorpion promises not to sting it. Well, halfway across the road, the scorpion stings the chicken and before the chicken dies, asks the scorpiuon why it stung him. The scorpion replies, matter of factly, "I'm a fucking scorpion! THAT'S WHAT I DO!" - and now, I'd liken myself to the chicken, except I can only hope top live long enough to see the scorpion get stepped on...maybe she already did. I couldn't imaging anyone more deserving of such a fate... Nevertheless, I will never forget her. I will never forget the Fourth of July, 2022. And I will never regain that last bit of my heart she ate. I don't want it...better to be heartless, soulless, and cold. To the bone...this will never happen to me again, so long as I live, and that won't be long... Waiting fo rthe next episode...