I screwed up again. Just put it on the pile of all the other fuck ups. Also fuck Spanish. I should have said I have no interest. I should have done a lot of things. I have no idea how I could be such a fuck up when things aren’t even going on right now.
I’m starting to take my medicine more consistently now. I think before this it’s been a month or so that I’ve been off it. Right at this moment I feel oddly nervous. I have a thing I need to do for this project coming up but no real progress right now. I don’t really know what to do. Even besides that I just feel this odd sense of limbo. Like I’ve been stuck in place for too long and I haven’t done anything about it. My therapist told me to write a list so that I know what I need to do each day. I haven’t even attempted doing that. I’ve just never been a list guy. Maybe that’s why I’m so nervous. She’s going to be disappointed. I have another meeting this Thursday. Overall I don’t know how well this is going. I think one of the things that kind of bugged me is that when I explained the existentialist questions I often have, she just told me not to think about it. That’s what everyone says, but how is that an answer? I didn’t expect her to solve it, but telling me not to think about it is probably a shitty answer. I would have been perfectly fine with her saying “I don’t know?” and leave it at that, but being told to not think about it kind of pisses me off. I don’t know. It’s her birthday next month. I already asked her what she would like for a present, but she simply said she would just like to get tea with me. I still want to get her something. She’s been real hard to get in contact with lately. She says it is difficult for her right now, but I’d still like to hear her voice.
I’ve been told that I should meet new people. A lot of people have said that. I don’t really know how to do that though. This is in regards to her not answering again. She never answers. At least it feels that way. I’ve made way too many posts about it. I’m tired of making them. So I’ll focus on the fact that I have no idea how to make new friends. You feel like that’s something a person should have mastered at when they were just a kid. Or at least learned some skills around it. Can’t say I’ve learned a damn thing. Tried a lot of different things but they never really stick. Can’t say that I’m not to blame. I’ve flaked out on people before. So I guess I get what I deserve. There’s a lot going on right now. A whole lot. Pandemic, protests, brutalities. It’s a whole lot of chaos. I don’t know if anyone knows what’s going on. There’s too much information to properly sort through it all. I am curious though on what will happen next. You know there’s been a lot of tension these past few years. It seems like the divide between people have gotten wider and wider. Sometimes I wonder if it’s always been like that and I was just too young and too dumb to notice. Was there ever a point where people saw eye to eye? Not necessarily on everything, but just on the basics. Be kind, don’t hurt people, etc. It really is falling apart huh. Not just for us but for everyone.
I went back and forth on whether or not to write this down. I was leaning towards no because I didn’t see any point in it. I didn’t think it would make me feel better, so why bother. I don’t know. I guess because I have no where else to go with this. It’s been three weeks at this point. From the point where I said I’d give up. From the point when I said I’d give her space. At this point it just kind of tracks the time on its own. I thought about calling her yesterday. I flipped a coin because of my indecisiveness. It landed on heads so I said I’d call her today. I gave one text and then one call. Silence as usual. It brought me back to feeling worthless again. It brought me back to the headspace of worrying and hoping and begging. It just hurt again. The funny thing is I didn’t want to call. I wanted to just keep going and stop thinking about it. It just made me think I was going to hurt again. And I was right. I’m starting to forget what it felt like to talk to her. That warm happy feeling it gave me. It’s starting to dull a bit. What it felt like to feel like she cared. All I can remember now is the constant anxiety and feeling of dread when we weren’t talking. That’s the only thing that seems clear. That’s what I was afraid of. Forgetting the happy parts of it. That’s one of the parts that hurts the most. Just the forgetting parts. It feels like torture. I just wish it would end. I just wanted a goodbye.
I’m as tired as you are probably. I still think about her. It’s kind of tiring at this point. I still think about calling her and look if she’s on discord from time to time. Sometimes I wish she would just block my number or remove me as a friend on discord. At least that would get the message across. The fact that she hasn’t done that yet though gives me a little hope that maybe will talk again. I don’t know. Her birthday is in two months. Last year I got her present late, so I couldn’t help myself and have started looking early. We didn’t get to see each other last summer, but since we are both back home (I think, she might have found an internship or be living with her aunt this summer. I don’t know) I was hoping that I could spend her birthday with her. I was thinking of just spending the day with her doing what she wants to do. I know she likes to bake, so maybe I could take her to a bookstore to look at some cook books or something. I don’t know. Maybe a movie if she’d like to. Or maybe we could just hang out in a park or something. This stuff is really killing me. The thing is if she wanted to talk to me, she would have done it already. Or maybe not. Maybe she’s still in a bad place now or she’s too embarrassed about the whole thing. That’s the thing that really kills me. I just want closure. Even if she tells me she hates and never wants to hear anything from me ever again, at least I know. I don’t know anything. I’m tired.
I thought about this today, but my reasons for being depressed and why I feel the way I feel have changed over time. I remember when I was in elementary school and I first really thought of the concept of death. I mean I understood what death was, but when I first actually thought about what that meant it terrified me. I scared me to think of all the things that made me happy weren’t permanent and can be gone with minimal effort. It doesn’t take a whole lot to die. You can get in a car accident, get sick, or simply trip over your own two feet and break your neck. People are extremely fragile. Thinking that my mom or my brother or I could just die and that would be that scared me. It scared me to think that I could die before I ever get to experience anything. It also made me extremely religious to a scary degree. I remember pleading with god begging him to let me live one more day, every day. It was kind of sad and I don’t want to think about it too much. Then there was a shift somewhere along the way. Somewhere along the line I stopped being afraid of that stuff. Then I started to look around and think to myself that there was no point to any of it. That life had no real meaning to it. People just kind of grow up and work and then the lie down and die. It seemed so monotonous. It also disturbed me that there was no concrete point to any of it. Even the routine of working and then dying wouldn’t be that bad if there was a solid end to it. Some end goal that all people work towards. But it didn’t seem like there was any and that the routine was just done for the routine’s sake. It also bothered me that there were many different belief systems, religious and not religious, that claimed they knew that they knew the “real” reason for everything. That they knew of some end goal that everyone should work towards. The thing is none of them could prove it. Then, like before, I grew to accept that there is no concrete point to it all. I kind of just took it that a person needs to find their own point to it and that there won’t be any right answer to why we are here. I just was ok with that fact, even though I know that reasoning is sort of a cop out. Now I’m afraid of finding no point. I’m afraid of not finding any purpose for myself and that I’m useless and have no meaning as a person. I fear failing not necessarily me, but anyone around me. I’m afraid of not being of use to anyone. I think when I started to reconnect with her and started feeling those feelings again, I thought that maybe if I could find my purpose and happiness in a relationship that I could be ok with being useless in career sense. That I could simply be happy with finding happiness in another person and them finding happiness with me. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a person and frankly unfair to them. To tie any sense of worth and meaning to another person puts that unneeded weight on them. It’s kind of sad really and that’s not what a relationship should be. Or at least I think. How would I know, I’ve never been in a relationship. Now I ping pong from finding no point and not bothering with anything to being constantly worried about being a failure. Sometimes I feel that since I find no meaning, that I should just die since I didn’t find one. That if it’s ok to interpret your own purpose then it should be ok to interpret you own lack of purpose and just be ok with resigning yourself to death. Not necessarily out of sadness but simply saying “Yeah this whole life thing just isn’t for me, so I guess I’ll make my exit now. ”
I’m pulling myself in two different directions. I can barely just stop myself. I almost did it. I flipped a coin to decide. It stopped me. I’m just writing to keep myself from being rash. It helps to put my words on screen so that I calm down a little. I can feel myself releasing the tension. I don’t really feel like doing it now. I stopped myself for now. How long until I stop for good? I don’t know. I’m really stubborn.
I know they’re bullshit, but I can’t help but be fascinated by them. I mentioned before that I have a way of asking questions when flipping a coin. A simple yes/no test to answer my question. I know that it’s a coin and flipping it doesn’t actually answer anything, but I do it anyways. Tarot is a long winded form of this. You pick cards that apparently have some deeper meaning that you picked it and then you think “real hard” about something when you pick one, and apparently that means something. I do that tarot readings from a free website I found which makes it even more bullshit. It’s an algorithm designed to give you vague copy paste answers when you get a specific combination of cards that are “randomly” generated. Yet for some reason I can’t help but be fascinated by the whole thing. I know that the answers are vague enough that it can be applied to what anyone is going through at anytime, but specific enough that it makes you feel like there is really something to it. There is a yes/no test on the site I found and I’ve asked it a bunch of questions. “Will I ever hear from her again, will I ever become a competent engineer, do I deserve to die because I’m useless, etc.” Ever time I get the answer and the explanation, it’s always oddly related to what I asked. I know that’s how the copy paste descriptions are suppose to work, but it’s still odd. I once asked “Is tarot reading bullshit.” and it answered yes. I guess that’s what you would expect.
I had my second therapy session yesterday. Still feeling a bit strange about it. Don’t know how it’s going to turn out. My main reason for doing all this is to try and improve myself in regards to my fear of failure. To be ok with trying things and failing and stop passing up opportunities because I feel like I’m not good enough. The thing is, is there even a way to do that besides just forcing yourself. She told me that no matter how much she wants me to go for things, no matter how much my family wants me to go for things, nothing will change unless I want it. That makes sense. However, this isn’t something I didn’t know. I’ve always known this. In fact I spend every waking moment thinking about this sort of thing. I’m always in my own head. I know that things won’t change unless I change them, but I don’t know if I have the strength to change them. That I’m too lazy or unmotivated to change things. I don’t know if I can change. That I’m just fundamentally like this. Another notable thing that happened is that I felt like talking about how I feel about that sort of thing. How I don’t deserve to alive because that I’ll never amount to anything. I explained to her the “tool” analogy that I think about a lot. That if a tool becomes broken or useless, you simply throw it away. That a person is nothing more than a tool to be used, and if they don’t work then they are nothing. I started to cry. Not ugly cry, but slowly and softly. I wasn’t able to speak properly and felt like staying quiet. I don’t know why I cried. Usually the thought doesn’t make me cry, but just talking about it to someone else brought me to tears for some reason. I don’t know why. It was just strange.
I am in the process of applying for summer jobs. So far I haven’t applied to many, and I even lost an opportunity because they wanted me to give my social security number over the phone, which I wasn’t comfortable doing. Overall I’m not picky. I’ll do anything. I applied to U-Haul, a chicken place, a computer repair apprentice, a machinist. I’ll do anything for some cash. Honestly though, being a machinist wouldn’t be that bad. $10 an hour and I get to learn more about a trade that’s always interested me. It even has some overlap with the stuff I’m learning at my university. It would be pretty cool to get it. But like I said, a job is a job and I ain’t picky. While applying for U-haul it asked if I had an Linked-in I could give. I needed to visit my profile to get that link to give them. However, when I tried to sign in it tried to make me link my email and phone number and all this other stuff. Then it made me try to pick connections to people I may know. It was a whole list of people. Some of which I knew, other I didn’t. Some of them where people from high-school and middle school. People I didn’t want to think about. People who have internships and go to Ivy league school and are going places. People who are amounting to something and accomplishing things I could never dream of doing. People I used to talk to and be in the same math class as and tried to compete on tests with. One of them was my middle school crush. She goes to Harvard now, probably on a scholarship. She was the smartest girl I knew and pretty damn beautiful from what I remember. Even in 8th grade she was a billion years out of my league. When I finally felt ready to tell her my feelings, she was going through a rough time. She wasn’t in school for the last few weeks of school and I later figured out it was because her dad passed away from a heart condition. I am the king of perfect timing. I remember that it was after school and told her I wanted to tell her something, but she said she didn’t want to hear it. At the time I figured she was on to me and wanted nothing to do with me. In hindsight she was probably feeling horrible over her dad’s condition and didn’t need some dumbass telling her he “liked” her. Now she probably has dudes lined out the door who want to be her boyfriend. All of them are probably prospective doctors or lawyers. Hell she’ll probably end up being a congresswoman or a researcher working on the cure for cancer. It’s crazy to think about. Well she probably worked fucking hard for it. The world needs people like that. Hopefully I see her on the news as some big hotshot in the future. Oh well. I could’ve gone without seeing all those people today.
It’s rather strange to think about how short yet dense a lifespan is. Relatively speaking, people don’t live that long. It seems like a while, but in reality life is less than a blip in the grand scheme of things. The thing is, it’s oddly dense though. A lot happens in those years. So much happens that it feels like it’s been a long time to us. It’s weird to think that sonething that was important to you a week ago, a month ago, a year ago, a decade ago means absolutely nothing yo you now. I vaguely remeber what it was like to think the world of my middle school crush. At the time she was the smartest, most intersting, most beautiful girl in the world. Now when I think about her, she’s just a name. I feel nothing. When I try to picture her face, her voice, how she acted it’s all fuzzy. It’s odd. I thought that’s how it was going to turn out for a particular person. I thought once I graduated high school and spent some time in college, she would just fade away into being a memory too. Yet somehow she persisted in the back of my head. Granted I wouldn’t think about her constantly, but every now and then I’d somehow mistake a girl on the bus for her. Or i’d be walking on campus and I’d something would make think of her. So when we reconnected last year, I had a strong urge to try and stay connected. I didn’t want her to fade away in my head. So that’s why I tried so hard. However at the time I also felt uneasy. Like I had a feeling it would end up bad. I didn’t care though, and I still tried to remain friends. Now she’s gone and I don’t know if it’s for good. So I’m curious. Will she just be another faded memory down the line. 2 years? 5 years? 10 years? Will I still mistake a woman on the bus for her? I don’t know.
I gave up already. That’s what I said. But I can’t help but want to try and talk to her. I haven’t, but the thought is still there. The hardest part about our friendship was that I always felt like she wasn’t telling me the truth 100%. Like when I would ask her “Are you bothered when I call a lot?”, she would always say “No, it doesn’t bother me.”. But I always felt like she didn’t want to hurt my feelings, so she wouldn’t be straight with me. I remember one time asking “Are you annoyed by me?”. Her answer was no, but something stuck out to me. She said if someone annoys her, she simply ignores them. So was she not telling the truth when she said I don’t annoy her and that’s why I haven’t heard from her in two months? Or is she really going through a hard time now and me doubting her makes me an asshole? Is it all in my head and has she told me 100% the truth this whole time? Another reason why I feel like reaching out for the thousandth time, is that she has the personality where she’ll feel guilty about this whole thing and not respond because of it. When she messaged me out of the blue a year ago she said “I’m sorry for coming back”, like it was annoying for me. Of course I told her not to apologize and that I love hearing from her, but it made me a little sad that she felt the need to apologize. So in my mind, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s not responding because she’s embarrassed about ghosting me. I feel like I need to remind her that I’m still here for her no matter what. But I’ve said that a thousand times. Surely she knows by now and maybe that isn’t the reason she never responded. Maybe she really just doesn’t care about me anymore. Maybe she wants nothing to do with me. Maybe I pushed her away with the constant texts and calls. I don’t know. I just hope she gets better.
Whenever I find myself uncertain about something I flip a coin. It can be about anything. Should I go ahead and say something, should I go get something to eat, should I study now or later etc.. However I don’t just flip coins to make a decision. I also flip coins when something is out of my control. Will I pass this test, am I going to make it through the week, will I ever hear from her again etc. I don’t really believe in a higher power nor do I not believe in one. I’m indifferent to the idea of one. So when I flip a coin in those situation, I know there really isn’t anything to it. It’s a coin. Flipping it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know why I do it, it’s just a quirk I have. So yesterday I flipped it asking, “Is everything going to be ok? Will all my school stuff turn out alright, will the therapy actually work, will the whole situation with her have some sort of resolution? Will I be ok with it all?” It landed on yes. I didn’t feel happy nor upset. I just flipped a coin.
I had an inane thought yesterday. I mentioned before that I think that if a person isn’t of some sort of use, there isn’t any point in them living. That if they don’t amount to anything, why are they here? That is a personal belief, and I don’t expect anyone to be held to that standard if they don’t think that way. Sorry if that hurt some people to read. This belief is why I think I have no reason to be alive. I see myself as a useless nothing that is mo use to anyone. So I thought to myself the other day, if I don’t improve myself by my 25th birthday, I should kill myself on the day. As a present to myself. However, if I’m going to do it, might as well make it perfect. I’d get a bullet with the term “H25BD” engraved on it. “Happy 25th Birthday”. Save it for the special occasion. I’d get a pristine rovolver. Real nice and decorative. I’d keep both in absolute spotless condition until the day. I’d get all my ducks in a row for it. Print out a note, set an announcement for the authorities to pick up the body, pick a nice secluded spot in the woods perhaps so my apartment doesn’t get dirty and lower the value for the manager etc. It’s all very over the top and overdramatic. It’s an extermely goofy idea. That’s why it made me laugh.
I saw you post, but couldn’t comment. I remeber you. You’ve been around for a while. I’m sorry you’re hurting.
They say that a person must find hapiness with himself. Others say that hapiness is the repationship you have with others. So which is it? I used to despise the idea that I needed someone. I hated that my hapiness was dependent on anything but me. That’s why I detested the idea of falling for someone. I hated how it made me feel helpless, like I had no control. That’s why I longed for isolation. For nothingness. So nothing can touch me. And then I got what I wanted. And I hated it. I hated thr bitter emptiness. I hated the seconds ticking by as I wasted away alone. I hated that all my thoughts were welting up with no real place to go. Like I was just lying in a pool of my own nothingness. I think hindsight is funny. When we started to reconnect, I had a feeling that things weren’t going to go well. That somewhere down the road, I’d end up disappointed. Yet, I still tried to reach out to her. That apart of me hoped that things would be better. And overtime I started to need her more and more. The feeling of just hearing her voice was enough to make my entire day. The thought that she cared about me meant the universe to me. That all that emptiness I felt was slowly dissipating. I didn’t realize that it was starting to get out of my control. That I started to rely too much on her. It wasn’t fair to her. To put so much on her. To make her feel that she owed me anything. To make her pity me. She has her own problems. Her own struggles. As much as I wanted to help, I must have done nothing. She said that being her friend comforted her, but she was still in pain. Now she’s gone and I have to be ok with that. I don’t think I’ll ever find happiness just by myself or with others. It still feels cathartic though. The fact that I knew it was going to end like this from the beginning.
I have 4 tests, 1 project due, 1 final essay, and I have to drive 8 hours to college station to clear out my apartment as well as look for a new apartment over there for next semester. I have a span of week to do this all. 3 of the 4 tests are finals non of which I studied for, I haven’t even looked at what I need to correct on my essay yet, and I’m really iffy on the project report. All in all, it’s the end of the semester. And I’m still slacking off. It’s Hell Week. The time of year where I stress and stress and lose sleep and cram and beg and plead for it all to be over. This year has a bit of a twist through with all the pandemic stuff going on. The professors have no idea how to end the semester given that all their careful planing got screwed up. Maybe there is a silver lining and they will be merciful with a curve. Then there is the cherry on top. The fact that I still think about her, even during hell week. You’d think that my main focus would be all this shit I have to contend with, which it is, but I can’t help by wander my mind over to her every now and again. Even during a time like this, I can’t get her off my mind. It’s real sad and pathetic. It’s a fact now that something like this is not normal. That my obsession, and I will call it that and I’m not going to mince words anymore, is unhealthy and just plain sad. A few years ago I wrote my “About Love” post. It was just my internal thoughts about the subject. How I viewed it more as a sickness than anything. How it only really hurts a person and takes root in their head until it constricts and chokes out everything in there, like a weed. I hesitate to say the love word in regards to anyone I have feelings for. It’s such an intimidating declaration. I won’t say that’s how I feel about her, because how would I even know what that feeling is. I will admit I have feelings for her, but like I stated earlier, it is becoming more and more apparent that it is an unhealthy obsession more than anything else. As mentioned before, I have told her about this place and she knows who I am on here.
If she didn’t think I was creepy before, she sure as shit does now. I doubt it matters now. If the last 10 posts didn’t scare her off, then this is probably no surprise. For all I know telling her about this place is what drove her away. Maybe and maybe not. Who knows. Regardless, the me from a few years ago would see me as pathetic and sad. It’s a good thing that my ideals have more or less remained consistent.
I felt like I had more to say, but I didn’t see any point in making a new post about it. I guess it is time to stop trying to contact her. After thinking about it and just being honest with myself, I realize that it’s over. There is nothing a can do to try and reach her. This whole thing is unhealthy and I just need to stop. So congratulations to boxcar who made me realize that I was being a sad creepy asshole about the whole thing. Thanks you fucking asshole. I don’t really mean that, but I guess after someone simply just said that I was being creepy about it, it finally just stuck. I guess I was just waiting for someone to tell me it was wrong, even though I knew it already. I already let her know what I think and how I feel. If she ever decides to talk again, it’s not like I won’t listen. But for now I guess I’ll just stop. What a pointless exercise these last two months have been. This last year has been. Whatever. Hope it sticks this time.
I called her a total of five times yesterday. I texted her a total of two times yesterday. I screwed up again. I was just really frustrated with the whole situation. It’s been almost two months since she ghosted me, and I was getting tired of it. I was tired of being ignored. I know things are probably pretty bad for her right now what with the quarantine and all. She probably hasn’t been able to get the medical help she needs for her mental health. That makes her withdrawn. But I was still tired of it. Tired of not knowing anything. Tired of only being met with silence. Tired of going back and forth thinking that I just need to give her space and time and she’ll talk to me again and then thinking that she wants nothing to do with me because I said or did something wrong. I just wish I had something. Some sort of answer, even if it’s a bad one. Even if she doesn’t want me in her life because of something I did, at least I know why. I don’t know anything. I’m sure what I did yesterday just pushed her further away. She probably thinks I’m a freak and harassing her. I don’t know. Not like it really matters anymore. I wish my next therapy session wasn’t two weeks away. I’d really like to talk to someone now. Whatever.
I did my weekly call today. Still no response. I left a voice message. Didn’t really know what to say except that I just wanted to check on her and that I wish we could talk. It’s starting to wear me down. At this point I’m just expecting to be disappointed. Whenever I get the urge to call I just tell myself “Just wait a little longer. You can be disappointed tomorrow.” I know that she won’t respond to texts. I know that if it rings more than once she won’t pick up. I’m just waiting every week to be disappointed. It’s really killing me inside. I think someone once told me that I’ll keep going regardless of how much it hurts me. I don’t know if I’ll keep going forever, but I don’t know that I won’t keep going forever. Maybe she’s just waiting for me to give up. How long will I keep trying to reach out only to hear silence. 2 Months? 6 Months? A Year? 5 Years? How long? Will it go from checking up on her every week to every two weeks to every month to every other month? Will it just phase out. I know that the only way to stop hurting myself is to just stop entirely. To just let her go. But I can’t. She made me too happy to go back to not having her in my life. I don’t want to get rid of all our messages and all the happy memories. This whole situation kills me. I just want to hear her voice again.
I had my first therapy session with my new counselor yesterday. I want to say she is the fifth one I’ve ever had. It’s hard to keep track. Anyways it was a pretty standard first session. Asked me basic demographic info, family history, social history, relationship history, what is my medication, what I have been diagnosed with etc. Overall standard procedure. The latter half was bit more interesting though. My main reason for trying therapy again is that I recently learned that I have a fear of failure. It was a somewhat odd observation, seeing as how obvious it was, but finally figuring it out gave me some what of a revelation. I always hated going to therapy for depression and anxiety because those are such vague concepts. Depression just means I feel like shit. I don’t necessarily know why, I just know I do. So working towards fixing such a vague problem always seemed pointless to me. But with this there is a concrete specific thing I can focus on. Something I can work towards. I really want to give this time a shot. I want to at the very least fix this problem. So the latter half I talked about how much I hated my internship last summer and how useless I felt. How relieved I was when this summer internship got cancelled cause of covid. I mean she didn’t say anything I didn’t hear before, but the fact that she said was a bit comforting. Anyways, I have some hope for this time around. I think I’ve got a shot for this one. I just hope I keep feeling that way.
I sometimes look at discord to see if she’s on. Yeah I know it’s creepy. Yeah I know I should probably stop. Yeah I know that I’m a sad pathetic man. Anyways, I noticed she was playing League of Legends. That means she is ok. Or ok enough to play a video game. Yeah it kind of sucks that she won’t respond to my messages but she will play a game. It hurts a little. But after a little while, I realized that she is ok enough to play games and possibly hang out with friends. That means she is not sick or feeling too sad to do anything. She is ok. She’s not dead or too depressed to get out of bed. She is possibly playing with friends, so at least she is a bit happy. I’d rather her be happy and not talking to me than being not ok. And she hasn’t blocked me on discord or possibly on the phone (I think). So at least it’s open in the future for us to talk again. She hasn’t completely shut me out. Oh well. I’m just happy she’s playing a video game.
It’s like a ping pong game. I go back and forth. Sometimes I am hopeful and feel that this will pass and I’ll feel better and my feelings of uselessness will pass and I’ll be talking to her again. Then the ping. I feel hopeless and miserable and that I’ll never see or hear from her again. Then the pong. And I’m back to having hope. It’s tiring. I wish the game would end eventually. Somethings got to slip.