Normal people do things like go out on dates; watch as I write this in solitude

My roommate (let's just go with S. for privacy's sake) S is going out on a date tonight. Well, more so a "go to a bar and drink and get to know you" thing. But knowing him, they will probably be fucking later. Thank god I took my sleeping pill. I just hope he doesn't drunkenly turn on music like last time...FML. Jeez.

Rachel texted me again yesterday and our conversation was kind of standoff-like; mostly my fault. I am upset with her that she is talking to guys...even though she friend-zoned me and hasn't done anything wrong. It's completely irrational and I know this. But do I "relax" like so many people tell me to do? Nope. I lash out at the one person who seems to actually show interest in my well-being. Although to be fair she wasn't really around when I was in NC. But that's how it goes right? When I was in NC, my SA friends weren't around and now that I'm back in SA my NC friends aren't around.

I think about S all of the time and I looked at my text history and noticed that we haven't texted each other since last december. 8 months. I already knew that our friendship changed as soon as she met her husband (before they got married) but damn. It's like the facebook status I posted a while back: out of sight, out of mind.

Speaking of facebook, it was around this time 2 years ago that E and I were talking according to the "on this day" memories thing. That was a high point in my life that I doubt I will ever get to again.

I need to do something drastic and I might have found it. I doubt that I will get it, but I am thinking about applying to work in the oil fields out in Sweeny, Texas. I don't imagine how I could isolate myself anymore than that, while still remaining relatively within reach of my family and "friends" in Texas.

I'm disgusted with people lately. Especially these "friends" that I have. Mostly my roommate and a different female friend since they fucked. He is such a playboy and bangs all sort of girls. He has a little black book with a shitload of women's name in it. If I didn't know about 1/8th of the names in it, I wouldn't even believe it. But he finally was able to add another of my friends' name to it. They both said they would never do that with each other....but of course that isn't true. Alcohol and desperation works wonders eh? Makes me sick. Especially because he told me that she was like, "I pride myself on being clean and not having any STDs" and he told her that he was clean. I know that isn't the case. His ex told me that she gave him HPV and I believe it was chlamydia. Sucks for her and sucks for my friend. Absolutely disgusting. But really, who the fuck am I to talk? I'm probably a functioning infection by this point.

Anyway, the sleeping pill is kicking in or something.

-M

Remember Stutterfly? I just did today.

This will probably end up shorter than it needs to be...that's what happens when you think about writing all day at work and then come home and are tired/lazy/uninspired to write. And to think, I wanted to be a writer when I was younger. lmao.

I spent about an hour or so at work today thinking up a facebook status. Let me try to recall what I had managed to come up with...

I used to think that I had a way with words. Not that I was ever a very confident speaker, or articulate at all. No, I thought I had "it" when it came to writing sentences. But like most positive traits that I believed I possessed for a long time, I was wrong. Whatever the present circumstances of my writing may be, I will attempt to explain what the hell is going on with me. I know that I have been a terrible friend the past few years. Even more so within the past year, but that shouldn't need explanation. Every single day is a struggle. I work tirelessly to combat these dark and depressing thoughts that creep into my head. If anyone actually knew what I was thinking at any given time, they would be appalled. I know I am, when they somehow make their way to the surface. I try my best to distract myself with any sort of media I can get my hands/eyes/ears on such as music, movies, games. And yet, sadly the menial work that I do 5 days out of the week gives me lots of time to be alone with my thoughts. Even if I try to focus on the task at hand I find myself slipping away from the present into the darkness since I am so adept at doing what I need to do that the work is effortless. I know I need help but my stubbornness prevents me from seeking it. I may not have spoken to a lot of you recently or at all within the past year, but know that I have absolutely thought of you. Yes you, reading this. Every single one of my friends from Texas to North Carolina to every other place that I know someone! My anxiety of accidentally revealing my madness prevents me from reaching out. Even in social situations I have the most guard up that I probably ever have. And to that end, I try and isolate myself from social situations altogether. Granted, I make an appearance here and there but I mostly keep to myself. I am not even trying to resolve my singledom. Anyone that truly knows me knows that all I have ever really wanted out of life was a wife and kids. The whole "white picket fence" type of deal. But I have made piss pour decisions and know that I am now destined to be alone. It took forever for me to realize that as I tried again and again to tempt fate only to be bested by this superior force. No more attempt shall be made. I have resigned myself to my solitude. I mean, I would love to have someone to share everything with. All of myself, my life, my dreams, my hopes, my fears, etc. But how can I possibly ask someone to embrace the broken man that I am today? It would be irresponsible and just plain wrong. I don't foresee any sort of "fix" for this, so instead I accept what has happened. Everyone who was a part of my tragedy had someone else (my mom had my dad, my sister-in-law had my niece) except for me. I have no one. I am totally alone. The way fate has deemed it. The way things were meant to be.   

But I didn't post that. I know that most people would only see it as a cry for help instead of an explanation. I'm not trying to get pity. I've received enough of that to last a lifetime.

Until next time...

-M