You cannot do any better than me.
Please, don’t take that as an egotistically-driven statement. It is not. It is not about how much money I have, or don’t, how generous I am towards you, or I am not, how I listen, or I don’t, or any of those things by which you think I, or anyone on the outside looking in – because the truth is that now I am on the outside looking in, too – would use as a measure of worth or value or comparison.
But, I maintain, you cannot, you will not, do any better than me.
It is not because of my height or my skin or my weight or my attractiveness or my body. It is not because of my family, my power, my career, or my influence. It is not because of my friends, my car, my shoes, my gloves, my indulgences, my gifts, my flaws, my mouth or the way I give you pleasure. No, it is none of those things.
It is because every person you give yourself to, even momentarily, you leave a piece with – and you have left a piece with me and it is a piece you can never give to someone else. You are less than you were with me and so no matter how hard you try, no matter what you get, this is about what you can give.
And it’s less. It’s less.
To be fair, I can do no better than you now either.
So I suppose we’re both all the worse off for this.