I hate my f'n life.
Somewhere I made a wrong turn and it's stunted my growth.
Everywhere I go people are happy to see me.
"You're a great friend"
"You're a wonderful listener"
"You're so funny"
"You're so brave"
"I wish I could be more like you"
"You're the person I feel closest to"
"You have to come, no one will have fun without you there"
So many BS things I hear all the time.
And after I'm done entertaining, making people happy, sharing my life adventures with them, ooo-ing and ahh-ing them with all the things I've done, the jokes I've told or the crazy dance moves I've invented, all I ever get is a see you next time.
This is my life. A life full of travel, career and adventure that others look to as some ultimate goal. They envy me.
But I am miserable. I chase travel to exotic lands and do the "crazy" things like bungee jump or run with the bulls in Spain because my life is empty. I walk home after every party alone with my thoughts. I come home and I cry. It sounds emo, but it is true. I have never had anyone love me. I don't have anyone to hug me. I don't have anyone who thinks of me. I am alone, watching all the people around me everyday who have love, who envy me without knowing what they have.
I try to resign myself to my fate. But I log for that feeling, that warm place that makes me feel bliss, but I have no one to put my arms around, I have no one to ask me about my day, I have no one to cook for or walk through the park with or wake up to.
I've been in relationships, I've thought at times I might be in love. I've told a girl I was in love with her and she kissed me hard. But looking back, it wasn't love. Being in love means you care about the other person. My love cheated on me, and on my birthday no less.
It makes me sad to think this is the closest I've ever come to feeling love.
The optimist in my is shouting, stop being such a whiner. It's making me wonder now if I should even hit enter on this post.
I suppose I'm finally realizing how miserable I am. How much I've tried to fill my life with travel, arts projects and my career because I didn't want to face the fact that I'm just plain and simple lonely.
To think to yourself you should call your mom because she cares about you and will make you feel loved is a sad state of affairs. I'm 31. Clearly I fucked up somewhere in life.
Perhaps I should have tried to date in high school. Instead I reasoned to myself it was better to let the girls think I was cool, rather than prove them wrong. I was stupid. I thought I needed a car and money to show a girl a good time. I could have just talked to her and went to the park and it would have been just as good. But that's why I was stupid, I didn't have the self-confidence to be myself. Or I didn't want them to see that I was a loser behind the bravado.
It's probably a lesson I still need to learn.
I act goofy, I try to make a girl laugh. I don't care if I look stupid, I just get a rush out of making a girl I like smile. The downside is, my close clown traits don't translate into "ooo, he's fun, I like that guy."
Instead it turns into "ooo, he's fun, let me go hollar at this other guy for a min and if it goes bad, no worries b/c this guy is here to make me feel good again"
I fuckin hate myself.
So I'm goofy, I'm a big kid, fine I have fun. But I also pull down enough money to travel the world and have the things I want. I take charge and I run my own businesses and then cash out to make another biz. I'm successful, I do my shot and I do it honestly, I'm a nice guy, thoughtful, considerate, polite and, not to be crude but out of the 5 woman I've had sex with all have come back for more and told me how good the sex was. I'm an honest person who, for better or worse, wears his heart on his sleeve.
I'm fucking sorry, but this is me.
Sadly, everyone love me, but no one really LOVES me.
I've tried, I've made an effort, I've played all my cards and gone all in, but it's never worked out.
I have to think it's something about me that's not right. Something in me is broken, but I have no idea what it is.
Is this just self pity or is it something more? Am I realizing that I'm not a person that will ever find someone to love me and therefore must resign myself to experiencing life without that?
Should I just kill myself? | |
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