So it goes

Posted on April 29, 2017

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On the way home I spot numerous women in all-too-revealing cowgirl outfits: short-shorts, fishnets, crop tops, cowboy hats. The scene ignites an all-too-familiar loneliness that begins in the pit of my stomach as though I ate something that didn’t agree with it. Then it gradually works its way up to my mind, prompting a need to drown out the inevitable feeling. Alcohol is usually the first defense, sometimes followed by other illicit drugs. Most of the time it works. But then other times, it’s not enough; and so I end up here. Talking to you, as always. Divulging my feelings I always feel; the thoughts I always think; the hopelessness that always consumes me. It’s a relief that’s always temporary, yet necessary. 

Despite what others may belief, ending it is always an option for me, no matter how buried it may be in the back of the hell that is my mind. 

The loneliness I feel is real; it’s deep, dark, and eternal. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt it. No one has come along and made it any different for me; only worse. The loneliness has only been confirmed for me, as though I deserve it. As though, perhaps, it’s what I’m meant to feel. 

Yet, there’s no one who understands this. That I know of. No one who understands what it’s like when no one wants you. When no one wants you in the same way that humans are meant to want each other. It makes you feel as though you weren’t supposed to be here. To call oneself a ‘mistake’ doesn’t seem appropriate. For to assume that an omniscient being, again assuming there is one, is capable of such little mishaps, is ludicrous. Therefore, it would seem simply that I’m not a viable contestant for this game of survival. I just wasn’t cut out for life. After all, isn’t that why people kill themselves? 

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