I don’t know.
I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.
I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. With my job. Or my relationships. My life. Anything.
Even though I prefer having most of my time to myself, I hate that I’m always alone. I hate that it’s my own fault, that people give me so many chances to be friendly. Or interesting. Anything at all, really, but I can’t do it. I don’t have anything to say. There are so many nice, attractive, interesting and funny people in my life, and there all wasted on me. I can’t seem to reach anyone and I don’t know why or how to fix it.
I’ve never been in a long term romantic relationship, and I don’t know if I ever will. I don’t even know if a long term romantic relationship is something I actually want. The only way to know, I think, is to try one and find out, but I don’t know if that’s fair to whatever hapless individual I’d be dating in that situation. A huge part of what’s held me back from dating in the past is that I have a hard time with physical affection. I’m not big fan of it, and I don’t know if that will ever change or if I can find someone who would be willing to work with me on that. I don’t know how to find out. I don’t know.
I never feel at home. Not with other people, not alone in my apartment, not even back at my parents house, my theoretical “true” home. When I left, it’s like someone erased all my tracks behind me, and now even when I come back it doesn’t feel like somewhere I’ve been before. Everywhere I go, I feel like I’m scratching at the walls to get out.
And I already know how. All I have to do if fill out a few papers and within a few weeks I can be in a whole new place with whole new people, just like every other time I got scared and bored and jumped ship. I can immerse myself in a new environment, find another group of friends I never quite fit in with while slowly losing track of the old ones. Then I’ll suddenly think of them years later and wonder if I lost anything important.
All of it was important. I just couldn’t hold on to anything and I hate it. I hate that all I’ve managed to do with my life thus far is waste money and plan escape routes.
So that’s me: no home, no friends, and no ideas. This box I’m typing in was originally a draft from last November with all the books I’d read that month I planned to review. I remember starting that draft from my work computer while working the phones at my last job, setting up all the hyperlinks and planning to fill in the full reviews after my shift. So much for that. I haven’t felt like writing anything in ages because I just feel so anchorless and stupid, but I’m going to try and change that. Because I have to change something.
Those are things I had to say. Now that I’ve said them, hopefully I can say something else, but I don’t know.
I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know