It’s nights like these where it never stops. As the residual alcohol from the night’s ventures flows through my veins, I can’t avoid contemplation. What’s worth it? I always scramble for some answers and I always end up with the usual fare. Friends, family, love and all that. But is that it? I mean I’ve pretty much always had a loving family and friends I’m stuck to worse then glue (in a good way)(no really, like the best way possible). It’s just on nights like these that I feel like I don’t really love anyone enough even though so many people in my life really deserve it. I should think about them more but somehow I don’t. It seems like I could drop into some void away from everyone I know and just be apathetic about it. That scares me. The worst part is what I’ve done to the few women in my life. I always start out with good intentions, just wanting someone to love. But then I end up ditching them or fading out of their lives as soon as I come to the conclusion that it won’t work out anyway. Being as afraid of confrontation as I am, I don’t even try to explain. I just leave. What kind of asshole does that? I do that to friends too sometimes when I feel like being antisocial or I decide that spending time with them just isn’t worth it to me. Growing up I tended to think of myself as a nice kid that should be liked and all, but really I’ve just been this passive jerk my whole life. I guess it’s the result of a combination of fear of people’s feelings, awkwardness, pessimism and misguided priorities.
I’ve also always felt like there’s someone out there special I just need to find and hold onto and I’ll learn my lesson and my life will straighten out in this area. But how can that ever happen when I’m like this? I’ll probably just get nervous and avoid them or make some lame excuse like I always do. Just so I can be comfortable being like this because I’ve always been like this.
And here I am writing about me and my problems. Sure, these problems are essentially about how I am with other people but this whole thing I’ve written is just too selfish.
You shouldn’t read it.