I started this years ago with the hopes that taking my thoughts and putting them into words and getting them out of my system would be a cathartic aid in my journey to "wellness", whatever the fuck that means.
Reading through everything I've ever written seems more like a bitch session; bitching at the world, bitching at myself, bitching about my past, my present, my future; not that any of those things aren't helpful and/or needed at times, but a purpose I rarely, if ever, thought the expression this provides would be or become is a friend. And like all of the other friends I've ever had, it's only been a relationship of suiting my needs when and if I desire it to be. When I'm lost, when I'm troubled, when I'm angry, sad, hurt, happy, whatever I can come here or I can avoid it. Fortunately, I suppose, for me, it doesn't go away, doesn't get hurt, doesn't push back when I push away; it's just here. That's not a relationship, that's borderline abuse. I know what a relationship is, I know what they entail, I know what they mean, I know I know I know, blah blah blah. I KNOW, but knowing doesn't mean a fucking thing other than knowing. I also need to have the drive, the motivation, the desire, the committment, the sincerity, et al..
That doesn't matter. I neither want to, nor care enough to change. Whatever it is about me that is broken just wants to be always and eventually left alone; whether or not I feel like I deserve it, whether or not I want it, whether or not I need it, it just wants to be alone and there isn't anything I can do to conquer it. There's nothing I can do to tame it. There's nothing I can do to live with it. And I'm out of strength to fight it. It's my choice and I realize I've chosen poorly, but I don't want to fight with myself anymore.
Which is why I'm so successful at being alone. Success being measured by my ability to do it and nothing else. Because I won't be successful at anything else, being good at anything else is incongruous. Fortunately that's not so troubling. I don't even care enough to care about that. And it's really only in the times like right now when I'd like to have someone to talk to, to tell that my life is falling apart and I'm lost and I'm alone and I don't know what to do and I'd like to know that I'm not invisible, not irrelevant, and I just want to be held and told that everything will be okay that it actually does matter enough.
But who wants to have that kind of friend? No one. Who wants to be married to someone like that? No one. Who wants that to be the father of their children? No one. And that's precisely who should have to put up with it. And I guess I'll be okay with that too.