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  • I need to do my ass a favor and never again drink coffee. Never. Ever.

    The last two times I've had coffee have taken me to the same dead-end: Wide awake and feeling lonely. There is an infinite pit I feel at the top of my stomach, just below my heart... like someone came to rip out my soul with winter-cold hands, it always comes to me.

    I can't sleep tonight and I'm up wondering why I'm always alone. There's a list of could-have-been-but-never-were, not because I've never wanted to. It's just that no one has ever wanted... me. That is a harsh reality to confront. Specially, because I keep trying to examine myself to figure out what's wrong with me, but when I try to get an opinion from friends they always tell me I'm wonderful, and awesome, and a bunch of other adjectives that just leave me feeling more confused. Why do only my friends see that? Or am I fooling them all? I would make an awesome girlfriend. I'd make an amazing wife, too; but that just seems like too much to ask from me, seeing that I have trouble getting to that first stage.

    Last week, when the sleepless night happened, I wrote to a friend. Her words in response sent me to the pavement. The one person I thought would understand that I was talking about all these years of lonesomeness, was telling me my latest rejection was insignificant. It was-- Had I been talking about that isolated instance, but I wasn't. I was referring my steady record of "not even enough to justify a heartbreak" love life.

    At that moment, all the years of pretending I am perfectly lonely (like the John Mayer song) were finally hitting me in the face. There was a wall I had been building, the wall of "I'm fine on my own, I don't need anyone else" that left everyone out, even those I intended to keep in. I had to step back and just swallow my feelings.

    Three days later, I had to take a solo-hike in a state park 50 minutes away from home in order to breathe and clear my head. Never-mind it being stupid or dangerous. Finding someone who would be interested in hurting me in the middle of those woods would had been just fine, compared to the indifference I've grown accustomed to receive. But I took my pepper spray, just in case.

    I would even take a heartbreak. At least one, in my whole life. You know why? Because that would mean there was enough love coming back to me, to be deserving of a heartbreak. My real hope is that there is someone out there that will want to hike around this world with me. And listen to music with me. And laugh at dumb movies with me. And travel with me. And go to a John Mayer concert with me. And that will know how much I love sunsets. More than that, I hope I get a chance to meet him.
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