I can picture myself alone for the rest of my life.
I feel like when I’m 40, I’m going to look back and wonder where the fuck all the time went.
It’s just going to fly by so fast. It’s already all going so fast. And then I’m going to end up disappointed. Because I refused to open up to anyone. I just refuse to let anyone in. All they do is trash me inside and out and walk away like nothing was done. I’m tired of it. And maybe this would be okay if I were even merely interesting. If I were just one of the people that you look at, and instantly want to get to know. Because then maybe if the right guy is out there, that’s what’ll happen? But it won’t. Because there is no one like them.
Why am I living life so wrong. Why is everyone else having a good time? Doing things for themselves. Going out. They like being around people. People can make them happy. It just doesn’t happen for me. All I have to rely on, is myself. Sometimes I almost miss the old me. The happy, little girl, that found the good in absolutely everyone. Always wanting to help people. Being so sure that life was going to be so great and I just couldn’t wait to get out there and get to know people, and make relationships with people. She’s gone. Vanished. Completely. I’m dreading everything I use to live for. I just can’t look at people the same way. The thought of what they really are is just so dreadful. The things they can do to you. How they make you think you’re so important, just to turn it all back around. How you spent so much time trying to do the little things just so they would appreciate you. And they don’t even give you that. How just, ignorant and selfish they are. It’s just not something I want to be involved with. Especially now. Trusting people, is just too much of a risk. And it’s a risk I’m not going to take again. Too many times it has failed. It would be stupid of me by now.
I might as well live under a fucking rock.
