I don’t think I really have friends anymore. Like, do I? It’s like…sometimes I feel fine but a lot of times…I don’t. I feel like nobody gives a fuck. Like it’s alright when I’m alright. Or when I’m pretending to be. But my problems are sort of untouchable. Like nobody wants the fucked up part. And I get it, I do. Who would? But I sort of thought that that was what love was all about?? Accepting the good with the bad. But I don’t think that anyone really cares to do that with me.
I’m tired of feeling like nobody cares.
And I’m not doing that again, like that one night.
I’m not calling seven people in a row to get voicemails, ignored, or worse - answered and not listened to. Or told that I’m gonna get a callback and then waiting up for one that doesn’t come.
I’m never doing that again. That was pretty much the worst feeling in the world. So, no.
I’m just going to keep to myself, I feel like.
Like - I was afraid of feeling like a burden to my friends all of this time and now I suppose I really am, but I’m not letting that happen.
I’m just going to sink down into this space that I’ve made and keep to myself. To my novels. To stories. Because there’s always space for a reader or a spectator. And that never changes.
Like…I don’t want to be anyone’s chore or anything like that. I already feel sort of useless enough. I’m already a liability.
So, I’m just going to remove myself. Things flow better for people when I’m not a factor. I’ve come to realize that.
Like it’d be better if I weren’t here at all.
I um. I-well. There’s that.