Anyways, I thought, before, that I'd surely go crazy once I started living alone. The first few weeks, I was fine.Now, those thought eat at me. A little nagging worm in the back of my brain.
D'ya ever get that feeling? That, you're surrounded by people, yet, truly alone?
I have friends, of course. But that's it. Friends.
Otherwise, anyone a shred older than me sees me like a son or daughter, oddly. I've been mothered and fathered all over town. Apparently, despite people telling me that I'm smart, I somehow look like I need constant guidance, advice, or... something.
Maybe it's my nature. How I daydream. Maybe I often seem lost. I don't know. Or either I'm viewed as a sibling. Like an older or younger brother, and treated as such. That means I have many friends. I'm likable, sure. Or else people would avoid me.
But no one looks at me in THAT kind of way. I'm always 'cute.' Not handsome. No.
I'm skinny, yeah. But, I'm not lying either, stronger than anyone else my age.
Arm wrestling, lifting, running, exercise in general. More weight, longer periods. I look better too, much more definition than any of my friends or family. My cousin was still in public school and worked out during P.E. every day, I still was stronger than him.
I consciously realize I have little to physically complain about. I'm not arrogant. I don't brag. I don't lie, cheat, steal, get in fights, or upset anyone. I don't badmouth people, and I work hard at my job. Perhaps it's those glorious gods of random numbers. There's so many people in the world, and I just haven't met the right one yet.
Yet, it is the nature of the human mind, to always look back, think of happier times. To question, or doubt one's own decisions.
So, the doubts that nag at me are there. Could I have done better? Gotten stronger? Worked harder? Or not at all?
After all, what good has it done me? How better off am I? And being alone only seems to make such thoughts worse.What's wrong with me? Do people see me as someone who's not centered? Off-balance? I've come very far from the isolated, angry youth that I was. I'm much happier now.
And still, they persist.
Will I go on like this forever? Will I die the same way I am now? In some room, alone, with nothing there besides my clothes and dirty dishes, no family to care, no friends that will remember me?
Sometimes it feels like I have only ever desired a person to share my life with. All these crazy daydreams, all of my story ideas. My own story, how I've changed, what I still want to become...And he/she will tell me their story. I want to hear it.
Thinking about it makes my chest ache. Hormones, maybe? Will it ever go away?
As always, time will tell all things. But right now, lying awake alone isn't very fun.
Anyways, I'll do something else now. It's just good to write it.