I guess I'll start where I feel it.

I've been in love three times in my life. The first time was stupid, and I've abandoned that part of my life. The second time, was a little less stupid, and I willfully abandoned it. The third time, well, not all things are meant to be as they most easily go.

The only two I've ever danced with are the only two I regret.

I know this is a load of sap. I do. In the end, none of them worked out, and I'm glad.

I don't think I'll ever be suited for a relationship, ever.

I walked upstairs from the TV tonight, and looked myself straight in the mirror. For the first time, on the one-year anniversary of meeting one of my best friends, on such an important time for me. I looked at myself, and I was tired and beat-up. I have been for weeks, now. I'm not running at full capacity.

Looked at myself and just wanted to collapse right there. It was infathomable to me.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I saw dirty hair, half-grown facial hair, and very dark, baggy eyes.

For the first time, I saw myself as an adult.

Two years ago, I was sinking into depression, seeing my grade school friends finally disappear, becoming frustrated with everything how it was, and one year ago, I was coming off a week away from everyone, and became someone totally different. This year, I'm on drugs for depression. I've instigated so much positive change in my life, but I still feel empty, and it just doesn't seem to be anything anymore. For every thought I have in the morning about what great things I'll accomplish, how I'm on this fantastic road and how all my old nagging problems are fixing themselves, how everything is okay, I have a thought in the evening that wonders whether I'd be better off dead.

Evan said on Friday that he couldn't imagine himself any older than 20, saying he'll probably die young. I've thought about people dying young, and it's the scariest thing I can imagine, to see a friend die young. But you know, I've seen myself as an adult, in the mirror 30 minutes ago. And you know something? I've been kicked down and beat up so much that I'm too cynical to move on. I'm a tired old man with problems keeping himself mentally alive. Actually, I don't think it's there anymore. I'm really soulless. And I think every woe that I have today, every problem that's left me in the state I'm in, results from my lack of a soul.
prev
next
archive