I really don’t feel like writing right now, but it is because I feel this way that I should write. Mostly, I don’t particularly enjoy writing when my thoughts seem jumbled. Despite clearly feeling some type of way, I at the same time feel nothing at all. Disorganized numbness. That sounds about right to me.

Secondly, I greatly dislike blog posts that are all gloom and doom. I mean, I love them when they are artistic and dark on purpose, but sad posts about everyday life? Meh. The world is genuinely depressing enough on its own without my help, believe me.

However, I realize that humans have human emotions. I can’t only accept the good without acknowledging the bad. Actually, I don’t have any trouble acknowledging the negative feelings I have from time to time. My trouble is sharing them with people. What people? Exactly.

This blog isn’t called what it is for nothing. I’m a loner. By choice? Involuntarily? I don’t know if it even matters anymore. I just am. Maybe it is because I refuse to show anything other than my happy, sunshiny side. Maybe people find me unrelatable.

Anyway, the cat is out of the bag. I have no friends. Well, I guess that isn’t entirely true. How do I put this? I have no friends that feel like friends. This is something I will surely get into more later, but for now, just know that I live my life as a friendless individual.

Strangely enough, I am usually fine with this arrangement. Being alone and having to stand on my own two feet is something I was sort of groomed to do since childhood. It’s okay. At least, until nights like this.

Tonight is one of those really rare occasions when I wish I had someone to spend time with, but I don’t. There is no one for me to text or call. No one.

My mind starts whirring out of control when I take the time to realize the extent of my own isolation. I start to wonder how I got here and why. Was it something I did, or was this how things were always supposed to be?

I try my best to interact with people whenever I’m in social situations. I know it isn’t nearly often enough, but I do try. Despite being charismatic and talkative, social interactions leave me feeling awkward. I’m forever questioning myself afterward.

Perhaps they don’t like me. I wonder if I should have said X, Y and Z.

To make matters worse, these interactions never go much of anywhere. I haven’t the faintest clue how to make friends as an adult. Things were so much easier when I was in school. Friend-making was simply a given…like forgetting to study for a quiz or running to class before the bell rang. Now it requires effort and something I clearly don’t have. Oh well.

I thought forcing myself to write would be a decent substitute for having someone to talk to. Let’s be honest, it isn’t. I’d like to think my conversations with real people are a lot more coherent than this post is. But maybe I’m not the only person who occasionally finds themselves lonely for reasons unknown. If so, leave me a comment or something. Maybe we have more in common than this lame affliction.


Written by nellsinaeternum

Just a girl lost in a daydream who is trying her best to color inside of the lines like everyone else, but is finding the act of smearing watercolor outside of the lines much, much more enjoyable.

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