I’m not an incel, to be totally clear, but I’ve been thinking a lot about what separates me from them, and what separates me from those of you on here who are in relationships, some long standing for a decade, possibly more, and are far closer to achieving what I considered to be at least a veneer of happiness, than I’ve ever been. But we’re all here. In the same place. No matter how bad or how mundane everything is for each of us, somehow we’re all here, willing to say we want to die, but hesitant enough to keep from squeezing the trigger. And part of me subconsciously still thinks we’re all so drastically different. Isn’t that funny?
i probably understand the suffering of incels a bit more than those who aren’t, simply due to the fact that I’ve never gotten laid, and that I’ve never really had an actual girlfriend. But there’s more to being an incel than that, and this is where our similarities end. I have had opportunities for sex; not many, since I wasn’t actively looking for it ever, but enough to count. I had to turn a girl down who, along with her friends, were dead set on the two of us screwing. I’ve had people come on to me, but they’ve just been beyond not my type. I think I posted earlier about getting seriously hit on over the course of a year by a girl in my class who didn’t know soda was unhealthy until I told her. i don’t mean to sound like a dick or anything, because she was really nice, but there’s no future for a relationship there; not even a few minutes. I can’t just use people for sex. I can’t just treat people like objects. If I ever stopped to that level I couldn’t ever live with myself ever again. I feel like I’m broken or something. Like there’s something about me that only attracts laughably incompatible people, sometimes with debilitating mental handicaps. I keep telling myself I’m too moral a person while I judge people and consider myself above them somehow. Something about me is an absolute cancer, but I either can’t find it or can’t kill it.
i could get laid if I wanted to, and ultimately that’s what separates me from the incels, so I guess I never could really relate. After all, I have my guitar to get me where my looks don’t, and that’s a privilege I neglect and overlook in and of itself. But I still do know what that pain is, that pain that literally flows through your bloodstream, all from total absence of an interaction, a genuine interaction with another human being who cares. I haven’t experienced this pain before until relatively recently, and I can’t imagine living so many more years like that. I really do wonder if the rest of this community, the “normal” people, I guess, feel that too, even though they’re not alone? But then again, like I said, I can’t really empathize with incels either, since it’s not like I don’t have means and options to attract at least a single one of the 3.5 billion women in the world. I have tools so I’m not stranded. I guess I’ll never know what that’s like either. Although if I did I guess I would have killed myself back in high school. Better or worse off? Who’s to say other than time?
Honestly I wish I could just hurry up and get in that relationship I idolize so much, break up and then kill myself, because I know I’ve been lying to myself this whole time about it being able to fill this hole in me that hurts so much. But then I’ll finally have proof.
Boy, That was a ramble if ever I’ve written one