It seems that the deeper I delve into the relationship sphere, the more painful everything becomes.
But loneliness is too, oh so painful.
Why do I got to want so much, and be happy with so little?
What am I looking for? Happiness?
It seems to have eluded me, like the fly zooming away just before the paper lands.
I’m lost trying to figure out whether I’m the failure, or all men are.
Poor men, all lumped into the one category, because of my inability to interact with them.
It’s not even that.
It’s just, it’s one after another…and the more I hurt, the more I shut down, and the closer they get, the more I give up.
Like, another failure reminds me of every past failure, and then I sink into thinking that I WILL BE ALONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, and all my family will die before me, because I’m the youngest, and I will be miserable.
Oh, I know it’s not true. With my health, and my ginormous number of nieces and nephews, there’s little chance of me being the last one standing. Not that it’s a competition or anything. That’d be quite creepy…
But still, I keep wanting to…actually be in a relationship with someone now, and it keeps…not happening. Which is totally fine, it’s just becoming so burdening, being the friend that will always just be his friend, and slowly falling for him, and him always falling away.
I need a relationship with someone who is actually there.
Not there at some point, not there for a moment, not there when their visa goes through. I want someone who actually wants to be with me. Why can’t I find someone who actually wants to be with me…and who doesn’t do drugs?
Why do they say they’ll be there when they won’t?
Why do they say they love you when they don’t?
Why do they bother to even pretend they care?
Why, oh why, can’t they just be there?
…because love problems aren’t just for teenage girls.