Close, very close.

  April 12th, 2010 by Stephen C.

I was sitting on the couch today. I had just had a really emotional argument with my pregnant girlfriend. She left; crying. I sat there with the intentions of grabbing my rifle and doing the deed.
I don’t know why I didn’t. I didn’t have any revelations, and there was no divine intervention; I just didn’t do it.

I don’t care about anything except changing the way I feel. I almost can’t sit still anymore because the pain is too great. I feel like I am not supposed to be here, in this situation.

I don’t care about anyone.
I try, but I can’t find any compassion.

I told my father that my girlfriend was pregnant yesterday. His reaction was similar to what I had imagined.
I don’t want to be in this relationship. I feel like I want someone different. I have nothing in common with this girl, and now I feel trapped.

I need someone that I can connect with. I don’t give a fuck about who is winning American Idol, or what’s news on Facebook.

Fuck Facebook. I keep telling my girlfriend that Facebook is the new singles bar of the 21st century, but she denies that. Not that I would care if she met someone. My gripe is about the usage, and how peoples’ whole lives exist on pages located on a remote server somewhere.

Fuck me, fuck them, fuck everybody. I need a drink.

I’ll just continue to recite my daily mantra: I hate my life, I hate myself, and it’s all my fucking fault.

25 yrs old looking 26 in the face.

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