Although I'm familiar with the concepts of Buddhism, I fight against them. That's what life is. Consciousness, isolation, is the opposition of infinity. I separate from the one, by being conscious. Then I return to the one, when I die. Tibetan Buddhism describes life as suffering. Suffering because of identity. We need people to love because, why. We are alone. Because we suffer. I need someone to soothe my pain, because I am in pain. This is what love is. What I mean by honesty is - I am an existentialist. I am a maniac. If life starts to stabilize, I will shatter it. Because it's all bullshit. And we need to be aware of it. It's more important than eating. It's more important than being warm. The truth will always flow through my life like a hurricane, destroying everything in it's path.
So, knowing that, should I adopt a partner?
Existence lacks definition without struggle, just like life lacks it without death and likewise for hope without despair. Perhaps you are consumed with feelings of self-loathing because you seek desperately to find a struggle worthy of your devotion. This would explain why you are so fixated on the collapse of relationships in the past and unable to forge a path into the future. Directionless men full of ideals are like chaos, dismantling and reconfiguring everything within reach while making little measurable progress. For all the effort spent, would it not be more fruitful to choose a direction and witness the truth that path can unveil?
I see life as a series of highways with a fraction of our hopes and desires waiting for us at the end of each. A mate is someone with a car, or maybe just a motorbike, who stops to pick up a lonely traveller and accelerate the voyage while making it brighter just by being there to laugh and smile at the ironies gifted to us by the struggle we frame our individual existences against.