On Not Accomplishing My Goals

I met this guy over the summer. He goes to an ivy league school and was doing a summer internship at a very well known investment banking company. Perfect 10. If finance doesn’t work out for him, which it will, he could become a model, date a celebrity and never work a day in his life again. Turns out he was gay so we slept together and that was that, and I knew that was that. A few months later he added me on Facebook which I thought was significant because I’d never even told him my name. As usual everything in my head ran away and I imagined us married on a beach in La Jolla, all my friends jealous because even though being gay limits your selection so severely I’d gotten a hotter guy than them, my parents all happy for me and shit.

Most importantly though, he kind of inspired me to get better grades and go to the gym and in general get closer to his level. I was pretty attractive and I knew it, but I wanted to be better and transfer to an ivy so we could run the world together. We talked on Facebook for a few weeks and he told me he would be in my area for the semester and that we should chill and everything was great, then one day he stopped talking to me.

He’s doing very well. He’s having a great time just doing him. Seeing some pretty sights, fucking any girl or guy he wants, landing internships, leading people.  Me, I just got a D+ in a class I need for my major. I had a weird reaction to some laser treatment that fucked up my face. I’m realizing that the friendships I’ve made in college aren’t as meaningful as I deluded myself into thinking. In fact I’m realizing that I made the complete wrong choice in terms of college. I tried applying to some more prestigious schools and failed magnificently because I’m lazy and have no concept of deadlines. It was all pretty embarrassing actually, and now I’m scared to try again next year. Failure is extremely unattractive to me, and so I consider myself unattractive. I know it’s shallow, but right now I honestly believe that sex is the best part of life, and if I can’t get the types of guys I want to get, I don’t know what the point is.

In high school I spoke 13 languages, was an accomplished classical pianist and composer, and a complete social retard. In college I’m the (formerly) reasonably attractive kid going out every night meeting tons of people and doing all the fun drugs. But at present, I have no idea what I am. My whole life I’ve been so unhappy with who I’ve become. I’m about to turn twenty and it seems like the part of my life that’s supposed to be the best is over. I can’t remember the last time I felt anything other than jealousy, regret or complete apathy. The only thing keeping me from saying bye is my mom. I OD’d when I was 18 and it really hurt her. So instead I’m praying for a meteor or a massive earthquake or something that would just wipe everything clean, no guilt no pain. Nothing’s happening though. I’m not sure how much longer I want to wait.