(This is fiction, although most of what the protagonist thinks are my own thoughts. It wasn’t supposed to be that in the beginning, but that’s what it ended with. I would’ve included a lot of different thoughts in it, as well, but it just didn’t feel right with my train of immediate thought. I might delete it, but the thoughts will always be with me. I truly feel forever alone. I’m grasping love, but can only feel the phantom pain of my shattered heart.)

Well, that’s the 7th date with no-show. She sent me a text, after I’d been sitting at the restaurant for about 30 minutes. 
‘sry cant make it, somthin came up’
She can’t even text properly, damn it. I got myself some food and a bottle of wine; a mistake? Maybe. Self deprecating? Entirely. Worth it? Definitely. Well, almost. A hangover is not exactly worth it, unless you have some stories to tell and I didn’t experience much else that night.

I’d met this girl a few weeks ago, during an outing with some friends. She was a friend of a friend, or something like that, and we got talking. We talked for far too long, the connection seemed to be there. By the end of the night, we had found each other on facebook and the following day, I messaged her. I thought it went pretty well, we cracked some jokes, argued about the best tv-shows, our taste being pretty similar already and made Hitler jokes. Some would say it’s ‘not tasteful’, but I don’t really care. It happened a long time ago, and if we can’t make fun of humanity’s mistakes and atrocities, we have no way of making fun of anything, or at least, I haven’t read any jokes yet that hadn’t been offending at least 1 person.

I’d been pretty excited about this date, it seemed to be worth it. We had a lot in common and the chemistry felt like it was there. I didn’t feel like I was too aggressive in my flirting, but then again, it wasn’t like she flirted too much back. I might be overthinking this, I dunno.

Now that I think about it, her texting was usually good. Good grammar and all that, so maybe she wrote it in a hurry. Again, I’m overthinking it. She wasn’t really interested, get over it and move on. But after a 7th attempt with a 7th person, it tends to get a bit tiring. I can’t help but feel like no one wants to be with me.

I mostly have female friends, we get a lot of laughs hanging out, playing video games, talking about lives or maybe writing our stories and critiquing each other. But those are friends and whenever I tell about my failed dates, they keep telling me something which I’ve grown to hate.
‘You’ll make someone very happy one day, you’re really a great guy! Fun to be around, you’re kinda sensitive and kinda masculine, as well. You’re like the perfect boyfriend!’

I like my friends, I really do, but these kinds of sentences hurt me so bad. What I hear is something along the lines of,
‘Dude, you’re awesome, but you’re not my type. You’ll make someone very happy one day, but it’s really not gonna be me.’

It’s like being back in primary school, I would always get picked last at football, because I was unpopular and chubby, but I’d always score half of the points.

‘You’re good, but we really don’t want you on our team.’

It’s like they’re scared of validating me. That they’ll be afraid that I’ll get too friendly with them, or that I’ll let the sudden popularity go to my head. I’m just tired of hearing those words and I’m afraid that I’ll shout at the next person saying that to me.

Urgh, I can’t stand the aftertaste of a hangover. Maybe it’ll do me some good to get something salty, some water and maybe a jog. Okay, I’ll drink some water, go for a run, come home and eat breakfast and take a shower. Actually, with the time, I’d actually be eating late lunch. I’m so glad it’s Saturday.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about it during the run. I just feel so lonely. 
‘But you have so many friends,’ Someone said, ‘How come you feel lonely?’

Because I can fucking be lonely in a crowd. Alone and being lonely is not synonymous. Being alone can be nice, just be by myself and do whatever I want, but sometimes that’s too much. I wanna share my day with someone, and share their day with me, too, and the longer this goes on, I feel like I’m destined to be lonely, even though I don’t believe in destiny.

‘You’re such a great guy! (But not the one for me) You’ll definitely make someone very happy! (Oooh boy, it’s really not gonna be me!) You’re smart, sensitive, funny and really charming! (Those are just not the traits I’m looking for)

I’m just so tired. The more lonely I feel, the emptier my place feels, as well. I go home, I have SO MUCH STUFF and yet, the only place I feel like being at is my bed. Not with all my books, not my games, not my movies, not looking up healthy recipes on the internet and going grocery shopping. Just plop into bed and simply don’t exist. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t wanna die either, but I just don’t want anything to hurt anymore. I wish I could disconnect myself from everything that’s human. All of my sensitive feelings, be the douchebag that everyone wants, but I just can’t. I don’t want to lie to myself, and even less, I don’t want to be someone I’m not.

I’m all over the place and confined to my apartment. I think logically, but with my heart. I want to feel happy, but the pursuit is just not worth it anymore. I want to die, but I have so much I wanna accomplish in my life. The standards I set for myself are too high, but I feel like I don’t meet anyone’s expectations. I’m too much and too little. I’ve been found wanted, but wanting. Life is horrible, yet so beautiful.

I’ve got vodka in my fridge, I’m fucking done right now.