My first entry in The things I can’t say

I dated this as the 14th which it technically is here. It’s 2:28 am. I’m up like I always am. Alone. Over thinking. Stressing. I’ve come to realize I am desperate for affection and intimacy. I’m craving love and closeness hut there is no one to love or be close to. I’ve tried. Fuck I’ve tried. No one is interested. I’m perpetually a “brother” to every woman I’ve known and been fond of. Of course in some of those cases that works but in others. Idk what I do that places me squarely in the brother category. Maybe I’m just an incel. I mean technically speaking I am but I don’t feel like I’m an incel in the typical sense. Im not disrespectful, I literally never expect anything from anyone. I never talk to women with any hope of it going anywhere. Not in the behavior. I think I keep my interests fairly well hidden. I know my confidence is shot. My self esteem and self worth are, most of the time, destroyed. I feel self conscious about everything. My weight. My teeth. My face. My voice. My job. My home. I just want someone to hold me while I fall asleep. I want someone to want to talk to me. To be excited to see me or hear my voice. I want to cry but I can’t. Idk if it’s psychological because boys don’t cry or maybe I’m just too far gone in it. I don’t want to live anymore. I hate this planet and I hate life. I feel like living was a punishment for some unearthly crime. Like I was convicted and sentenced to hell. That’s what this world is to me. Hell. I want to end it but I really am afraid this was a punishment and if I did end it I would suffer even more.