I've been joking, mostly to myself, that I'm a ghost. I don't really exist. When I go there will be no proof I existed, just some people talking about collective hallucinations.
came out swinging - the wonder years
This has been a rough year, in a rough life. I make light of it, but I really do feel like I'm living my epilogue. The plot threads were taken care of. Life isn't really giving me any new ones. I'm ready to die.
I've tried explaining this but it's hard to explain. I'm living in my epilogue. My friends think I'm courageous for the way I stand up to and for people.
It's not courage, it's apathy with delusions of grandeur. I just don't care, my life's story is over.
Today I felt that even stronger. I'm ready for this to be over and am just waiting for the end.
I was... Familiar with the grief box? There's a box in your head for the horror you've been through. In each box there's a button and a bouncing ball. When the ball hits the button you get to feel grief and pain. Over time the ball shrinks, but never goes away.
It's not like I was abandoned this time. But it looks like a duck in the distance, and stinks of a duck, but is walking only a little like a duck. Maybe I won't be fully abandoned this time.
I'm just not strong enough. I wrote my first draft of my note. I usually feel a little better after doing that. It's weird, I know. This time it felt different. It's a good thing my state has real good gun control. Too bad there's other ways.
I'm not allowed to be fulfilled. Not allowed to be happy. I am allowed grief and trauma. Parents made sure of that.
Not like I have a future. I barely have a present. You should read Midnight Nation. I think if it wasn't for one person I would have slipped through to that side.
Nobody cares. Nobody. Why would they? They have good lives. I'm stuck. They have all moved on. I'm stuck. That's a good way of putting it, but like most quick phrases it misses nuance.
I'm in the back of a concrete mixing truck. If I stop moving, stop the drum from spinning, the concrete will get hard and I'll die. If I try to get out, the concrete will get hard and I'll die. So I'm alone walking in that drum. Nobody to talk to. Nobody to care. Why would they? I'm not even sure I'm human.
-C
Finally had the other shoe drop. My friends think I'm dramatic when I talk about my history when it comes to romance. I'm not being dramatic I'm just going to die alone.
She went through the reasons she wants to date me but decided on not continuing. By her own words she should be dating me. But won't.
History repeats itself. Day late buck short, story of my life. She really wanted to get into the weeds and try to pad herself because she really likes me and doesn't want me to be hurt. She kept going over a couple of the same point so I had to let her know it's ok.
Awhile back I found a picture of me from forever ago and sent it to her because it's a funny picture. She made comments about if we had met then she would have made sure we dated because I'm her type. I joked that wouldn't have happened and every time she asked why I gave her joke answers.
Fast forward to tonight and her trying to get us on the same page. I reminded her of that conversation and told her the real answer. That it didn't matter when or under what circumstances we met, *this* would have still happened. She understood where I was coming from.
This isn't the first, won't be the last time a girl can and wants to be with me and chooses not to.
My friends joke that I'm a fatalist. It's usually after I make a prediction and it comes horribly true.
I'm going to die alone. I'm going to live alone. And when I die there will be three people that will care. Well, probably two, that third friend doesn't take care of his body very well...
I think one of the big things is that I'm at a point in my life where I'm just waiting to die. There isn't a future for me, not really. Just the same thing every day and then death. Fun.
My sister posted some screen shots of a text conversation between her and our dad. On the surface it was a cool conversation about all the concerts he brought her too when she was younger.
Any guesses on how many be brought me to? Big ol' zero. It's weird how I'm constantly sharing music with people and asking for new music that people to this day think that music doesn't play a big part in my life. It's strange.
Instead my dad always belittled the things I liked and invalidated my emotions.
I think I was twenty two when my dad and I got into a huge fight. I told him this would be the last time I apologized for being me and told him I'm sorry that I'm not the son he wanted. That was over a decade ago. If we talk, it quickly turns back into that fight. He can't control himself and refuses to try. So we don't have much of a relationship.
I talk to my blood probably twice a year. It's usually my sister. Our relationship is weird. I love her but I can't trust her. Play shitty games get shitty responses. I will not have my civility weaponize against me.
Our incubator was abusive to us. Literally kicked me out of the house on Christmas. Fucking hallmark moment right there.
People wonder why I either come off reserved or like Gomez Addams. I'm watching you or I'm being the adult I need as a child.
All of this makes the holidays particularly isolating. Usually there's a friendsgiving, but one of those people went way over the line and I warned him when he crossed it. Tried to give him an out. He kept going. I told him to stop. Then was suprised when I called him on his shit and I lost two friends from that. Him and one other. I kept two other friends from that group. I should put context that they were my found family. This issue I think I posted about awhile ago....
Anyway. Then. Over the summer an amazing woman pursued me and when I told her I was on board ghosted me for weeks. We talked and got caught up. She told me she couldn't be in a relationship with me for the dumbest fucking reasons. When someone show's you who they are, believe them. Wanted to stay friends. I texted a couple times. Still waiting for a response from.. September I think. Lol.
In summary, I'm an unlovable person and each time I try it gets harder. I'm already aware I'm never getting married. I get it, it's ok. I would like to not have an empty funeral if you get what I'm saying. And more to the point I hate the holidays because of how isolating it is. Covid already makes things hard. Then.. Yeah. Fuck me.
I'm in my epilogue just waiting for the last page.
I just... Hate myself so much. It bleeds onto the things around me. Today was hard. Much harder than it needed to be. I'm not meant to be loved. The attention and affection i do get is not only alien, but feels like the universe teasing me. I know it won't go anywhere beside that fleeting moment. But fuck me. I want to die. Kill me. I'm never going to figure this out. I'm never going to be given a chance. I'm not built for me. What a sentence that is. Just let me die.
I stood up and defended a friend from a weird situation on the street the other day. The group was amazed. The trick is hoping to lose. The trick is wanting the end..
I'm in my epilogue and the universe won't let me even think of trying anything else. No new stories. No new connections. No nothing.
I'm a skilled individual. I am engaging, intelligent and even a little charismatic.
What I'm not is lucky. Rolling the dice a lot and getting a couple wins is not the same as getting those two wins on two rolls.
There are things I'm not going to do in this life. There are a great many things that life will make sure is just up that hill. Call me Sisyphus.
I don't know how to not try. It hurts when I do. It hurts when I don't.
Other people certain things just fall in there lap.
Yes I'm jealous. I want to have fun. I want love. I wish the universe was just indifferent to me instead of against me.
I know it's bad when I'm staring off into nothing, just letting YouTube or whatever keep playing and I waste a day and notice it's still early. I just want it to be over.
This is my place to vent my thoughts I can't share.
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