I Prefer Being Alone But Hate Being Alone
Anytime I find myself attracted to someone, someone whom I think would be a good match I restrain myself. I only pursue as far as I can without making a fool of myself. I only pursue when there atleast appears to be mutual interest. But rarely do I take extra steps. Afraid to hear what I've heard time and time again. Those lies meant to spare my ego. "I'm just not looking for a relationship right now", "I'm not ready", " I have a lot of things on my mind". Dont tell me they're telling the truth. This is what women say when they're not interested. They cant just come out and say it plainly. They beat around the bush and play mind games.
I'm not asking for instant gratification, I'm not asking for them to become mine and I theirs right off the bat. I'm asking for a chance to prove I'm worthwhile, to prove that I have value and I can make them happy. All I want is a chance. I find myself looking back to before, over and over again she haunts my memories. Wondering what I could have done to save it, wondering what I did wrong and what can I do better next time. I crave that feeling again. The feeling of being wanted, of genuinely being loved and adored. To feel important, special, unique, and always on their mind. Because she was always on mine. I feel torn, no longer whole, void of what I once was, a mere shadow of myself. It's difficult to interpret. I feel my chest sink, my shoulders aching and heavy. Suddenly nothing else matters, everything seems to lose life and color and my world turns grey. Food and comfort become routine and mundane. Work monotonous and neverending. And company is aggravating and stressful. I retreat to rest in the hopes of drifting off to a better place I only find in my dreams where I am no longer troubled by these afflictions. That is until I wake, greeted with the sudden revitalization that those happy memories of which seemed familiar and close to home were naught but fabrications of my psyche. I curse my subconscious, deluding me into safety and comfort only to have it ripped from my grasp in an instant. Know this, I do not wish for death. There is no dreaming in death. There is no pain and suffering but neither is there joy and laughter. Death is darkness. Nothing remains. A life in pain is better than no life whatsoever. Life is fleeting and I still have time left. Don't let me squander it drowning myself in agony and self pity. I wish to live so that I may live. I wish to experience all this world has to offer. I wish to die with no regrets. So how do I put down the shovel and climb out of this hole I have dug? How is one to climb out without rope?
All these years I have asked these questions, racking my brain looking for answers. I hope you have found yours, because my search appears to have no end.
I'm not asking for instant gratification, I'm not asking for them to become mine and I theirs right off the bat. I'm asking for a chance to prove I'm worthwhile, to prove that I have value and I can make them happy. All I want is a chance. I find myself looking back to before, over and over again she haunts my memories. Wondering what I could have done to save it, wondering what I did wrong and what can I do better next time. I crave that feeling again. The feeling of being wanted, of genuinely being loved and adored. To feel important, special, unique, and always on their mind. Because she was always on mine. I feel torn, no longer whole, void of what I once was, a mere shadow of myself. It's difficult to interpret. I feel my chest sink, my shoulders aching and heavy. Suddenly nothing else matters, everything seems to lose life and color and my world turns grey. Food and comfort become routine and mundane. Work monotonous and neverending. And company is aggravating and stressful. I retreat to rest in the hopes of drifting off to a better place I only find in my dreams where I am no longer troubled by these afflictions. That is until I wake, greeted with the sudden revitalization that those happy memories of which seemed familiar and close to home were naught but fabrications of my psyche. I curse my subconscious, deluding me into safety and comfort only to have it ripped from my grasp in an instant. Know this, I do not wish for death. There is no dreaming in death. There is no pain and suffering but neither is there joy and laughter. Death is darkness. Nothing remains. A life in pain is better than no life whatsoever. Life is fleeting and I still have time left. Don't let me squander it drowning myself in agony and self pity. I wish to live so that I may live. I wish to experience all this world has to offer. I wish to die with no regrets. So how do I put down the shovel and climb out of this hole I have dug? How is one to climb out without rope?
All these years I have asked these questions, racking my brain looking for answers. I hope you have found yours, because my search appears to have no end.
31-35, M