I Am My Own Worst Enemy

I realized something recently. Even though I go through the motions of life, even though so many things have happened, I don't really feel anything. Am I really that heartless? I cry because everyone else is crying, and I laugh because they are laughing. I've never really felt what real love is. I was raised to be immune to being heartbroken because my family was built from shattered dreams, and painstakingly cruel realities of abandonment. Maybe we were all forced to grow up while still so young, but it doesn't make sense. I have a friend that I love, and I wish I could stay with even after graduation, but after moving and losing so many people due to inconvenient circumstances, I find myself constantly telling myself to care for nothing, that everything is "meaningless". I tell myself everyday, "Love is meaningless, it will die away like everything else." "There's no point, you'll only be hurt in the end." SO why do I keep trying? I don't know why I'm always hoping for some change in my life. I've learnt from young that wishes don't come true and goals are useless unless there is effort. But what if effort isn't enough. My mind comes up with at least twenty ways to die each day, my mind runs through hundreds of dialogues to say just to make people hate me and leave me alone. Yet I'm afraid of being alone. It seems I'm a horrible contradiction, indecisive of what I truly want. I wish I could forget everything, perhaps then I would no longer suffer under the pressure of my own existence. There are only very short and rare periods of time that I experience in which may be associated with joy, but perhaps if I allowed myself to partake in such things, I may only lose myself.