This is a vent or rant. I believed life would be fair. I watched tv and it rotted my brain.
I thought one day I would meet a special guy. I met one that I thought was special 9 years ago. He really made me forget about the guy I had a crush on for few years. This man was my first boyfriend at 28 years old. You can believe I thought I would have met a guy that actually was attracted to me before then, but that did not happen. Now I question what if any feelings the guy I met back then had for me back then. So today I struggle to continue to live. My dream of loving and being loved has not happened. This is my luxury. I’m not struggling for food and shelter or safe drinkable water. I’m suffering from loneliness. I can’t believe that if I was starving I would be thinking about wanting a guy to like me. Yet that is my starvation of an unfulfilled dream. I also know be careful what you wish for because it might come true. Living in the grey area sucks. I hate that I’m trapped in a body that is unattractive or not easy on the eyes. You see the statistics are out there. The odds are that I will not meet a special guy. Black american women are not seen as attractive and if I dated within my own race the guys are in jail. I grew up in a place where the only black kids in school were me, myself and I and sometimes my brother. Anyways, why can’t I be happy that for now I have my health? that I’ve lived and traveled abroad? I know that most of the poor in the U.S. do not know real poverty as I’ve seen it in other places in the world. Yet, still I’m thinking about purchasing some charcoal and ending my life because as someone mentioned that I’m just a waste of space. I have ancestors that survived slavery yet I’m thinking about ending it all because guys don’t find me attractive when frankly who would if I’m thinking about cashing in my chips/kicking the bucket/ whatever phrase you want to put in that sounds a bit better that suicide.  When I was at the mall shopping last year a black couple (teens) walked by me and the guy said “fugly” while pretending to sneeze. I’m weary. Whatever so called coping resources I had are vanishing. I sent a message to jo and no one answered my question. If you believe you’ve done everything you’ve wanted to do in your life, yet being loved is something out of my control and the writing is on the wall that it probably won’t happen why continue to live? I used to tell myself killing myself isnt worth it because anything can happen. That phrase no longer holds water for me. I’m glad I stuck around for as long as I did, but that was because I had other things I really wanted to do. The Future no longer seems interesting to check out. Being lonely, watching my parents get old I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle that. I’m already worried my father will have Alzheimer’s like my grandmother. This is my vent. I know some part of me wants to stick around but the voice is so faint and weak.