September 22nd, 2018 by thehusk

I’m feeling so consumed by longing, regret, & despair. My mind keeps getting drawn back into the past, searching for the last time I felt close to someone. It’s a long way back, and even then it was more a long series of missed opportunities.

A girl who I haven’t even seen in 13 years, and who wouldn’t give me the time of day for a year or so before that. But for around four years, on and off, I really got the sense that she cared. She pursued me time and again, practically throwing herself at me on several occasions. Did everything she could to make it obvious to me, to be close to me, to give me the opportunity to make it real. And it’s not that I didn’t like her. But I was always too caught up in obsessing over another girl, or too confused and embarrassed around my friends to show her that I cared. I was too paralyzed by social anxiety to show proper affection. When she would show interest in other guys then suddenly I’d realize how much I liked her, but as soon as she renewed her interest in me and we started spending more time together then I’d start to see her as more of a friend. It’s like my mind wasn’t capable of being attracted to someone who I actually liked as a person, and who liked me back. Rejection was the thing that most peaked my interest. If a girl didn’t see me as completely inferior, then what was the point? Even then I was f*cked up.

But she was the last person to hold my hand, to hug me, to kiss me with real affection. She was the last person to show me any kind of intimacy. To give me the sense that she really wanted to be with me. That she saw me, hugely flawed as I was, as someone worthy of wanting. Someone worthy of pursuing. That I really meant something to someone.

And part of my mind is still trapped there, even though I haven’t seen her all this time. I guess I thought that she’d always be there, waiting, when I got my act together. But eventually, she got frustrated by my repeated failure to show that I cared. I think maybe she felt humiliated, that she had put herself out there so often over the years to try and get me to step up. Maybe in the end she understood that I was just too messed up. I think she probably felt sad for me, as I became increasingly isolated and consumed by anxiety. She moved on, and got a real life. I’m sure she’s married with kids by now. I doubt her memories of me mean anything much to her. But my memories of her are lodged in my mind, even as I forget her face. How pathetic is that? It’s not even about her, not really. It’s just that she was the only person I really felt that from.

That memory of what it was like to feel significant to someone. To feel close to someone. To feel that someone cared. Because I long for that feeling so much right now. I feel so insanely alone, and isolated, and lost. I’ve cut myself off from the rest of humanity, in ways I don’t think I can go back on. I’m no longer capable of real intimacy, of letting anyone in, letting anyone know me. I’m no longer worthy of affection, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change that. I’ve gone so far from the regular path that there’s no way back.

I can go through the motions, pretend. But anyone I lead into caring about me is being terribly deceived. Anyone I care for I am betraying, simply by allowing them to be involved with me. My life is a lie, and any intimacy I find is based upon false pretenses. Now no one can ever care for me, because I can’t let anyone see the truth. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to feel really close to another person again.

I don’t know how to live with that longing, with the loneliness. I try to numb it, distract from it, but always my mind finds it’s way back there, even in my dreams. Love seems to be a human essential, and I’ve made it impossible for myself to love anyone, or for anyone to love me. I’m so consumed by regret. I want to go back and shout at myself for letting the possibility slip away. I desperately want that opportunity back, but it’s too late now.

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