Everywhere I look, there’s a dead end waiting

I’m nearly fifty now. I have no love in my life, very few friends, and a job that I hate but that pays well so I’m afraid to leave it. I do very little that is meaningful or substantial. The best I can be is useful, in my small and poor way.

Most of the time I feel, alone, abandoned, angry, sad, defeated, and helpless. I have been alone for a long, long time, and I can’t imagine that changing. I can’t imagine having love in my life again – I wouldn’t even know what to do with it. I barely speak to my parents, or to anyone … and no one notices.

No one notices how isolated and withdrawn I’ve become. No one notices how I’ve withered up. I’m here, alive somehow, but I feel completely dead inside. I look inside myself and I only see ashes.

If I died today, it would be days or weeks before anyone missed me.