The Final Descent

I’m 34 and my love life can summed up easily; always the friend, never the boyfriend. I have never been a woman’s boyfriend. After a few dates I end up just their friend, or friend with benefits. Yes, in the end I was being used, but I was content with this, content with being unlovable. I was fine on my own. 

Then it happened, a woman wanted me as a boyfriend! After a couple months in this relationship I had to make a choice, to fall in love or not to fall in love. She kept moving the relationship forward, she seemed into me. So I took the risk, consequences be damned.

I let down ALL of my defenses. Once they were down I let myself fall in love. The consequences began immediately. The darkness I had kept at bay for so long assailed me. I was defenseless, but I had love and happiness so the darkness couldn’t take hold of me for long. In time I would rebuild my defenses and all would be well. 

A couple weeks later she was gone. Why? At the time I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was mentally defenseless and the darkness consumed me. The process of self-destruction began again. It had been more than ten years since the last time, and it turns out I was still very good at destroying myself.

For a month I hunted for a reason. I grabbed hold of every flaw, every negative aspect of myself and held them to the light. Did this reason make sense? If so, I would hammer it into my soul. I’m boring. Makes sense. Modify my self-image. I’m useless. Makes sense. Modify my self-image. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

The damage was done. I was broken. More than broken, I was shattered. It was around this time the truth was found. Did I have to break myself to find it?

People fall in love differently. For her it was something natural. Something she either felt or didn’t feel. She couldn’t force it. For me it wasn’t natural. I can fall in love with anybody if I want to. I just have to open myself completely and I can feel it. For me, feeling love is easy, but I pay a terrible price for this feeling. In the end it was just another friends with benefits relationship, she just didn’t tell me ahead of time.

This realization should help me repair the damage done, but it isn’t. I’ve broken myself too much. I don’t think I will ever get back to the way I was before. 

I am a completely different man than I was six months ago. I hate myself and I want to die. I’ve returned to the old pattern of friends and friends with benefits, but they don’t satisfy me anymore. I can’t talk to these “friends”. I can’t open up to them. I’m there for them, but they are not there for me. 

Each day I slip closer to the edge. What keeps me alive is the thought that I could never hurt my mother that way. But this reason is slipping. It doesn’t hold as much sway over my thoughts then it did a week ago. 35 is looking like a nice round age to throw in my cards. I think I’ll give myself until then to see if I can find a reason to live.

I’m stuck in this catch-22. I need someone on my side. Someone to talk too, someone to listen, someone I can share this burden with, someone to hold me and tell me everything will be alright. But in my current state this can never happen. No one wants anything to do with a useless, unlovable, depressed man. What I need to get better I can’t have until I get better.

So I continue to wear my happy mask, make “friends”, exist. I’m not happy. I’m not even content. I had a taste of happiness and love. I liked it. I want it again. But I have to accept it’s something I can never have. I did it before, but I don’t know if I can do it again.