Forever alone.

I keep backspacing everything I write here. The pain is too real. Feelings too unhinged. I picked up my phone to see if there was anyone who could help, but no. I don't have the energy to lay down the groundwork with someone new. I don't want to go somewhere I'm not wanted. My head is a prison. I'm reminded of the thought of wanting to escape from myself. Writing thus is my only respite. 

We all want to be loved, don't we? I suppose that's one of the reasons that keeps us moving forward. That drives us to be better. To provide all that we can for the ones we love. Figures then that if you weren't getting that love for whatever reason, you'd stop wanting to move forward and do all those things, right? I don't think so highly of myself to presume that I can do anything much different than all the people before me in this world. Just an average Joe. Nor is my nature such to want more than what is just enough for sustenance. Everything else that I do then has to be to serve others. To get their love. And love has to be more than just getting your meals cooked, right? Love has to be Cognizant of your struggles. Of your hopes and dreams. Of your messed up conflicts and reservations and complexes. The sad part is when you realize that it probably wasn't love to begin with and it probably never will be. The sad part is when you realize that there is nobody for you, certainly not now. The sad part is coming to terms with the fact that you've given up and let go.