disillusion due to overabundance in Sometimes I feel dead inside

another morning on the end of the bed, wondering how to politely ask a woman to leave. is she faking that she didn’t wake up when my alarm went off? or worse is she really a heavy sleeper? maybe she lives far away or needs to be told how to get to the nearest train station. sometimes its a continuation the previous night’s fun, or a shower and an extra toothbrush. the near zombie shamble to the bathroom should give her time to figure out which she is. it doesn’t matter, she’s not going to be the last and she certainly isn’t the first to be in this spot. does she feel as alone as i do, that would be terrible. she doesn’t deserve to have that, my enjoyment is fleeting and in the moment, a required release to keep my brain from self destructing. knowing full well she will never live up to the idealized woman in my head, the girl that can never exist and is compiled from others that have come before. what is worse is the traits i do see, the ability to become someone who would watch you bleed to death in an alley, and curse you the whole time. yeah not all women are like that. not every woman i know is like that. the propensity is still there. is it more of a disappointment that i know that she’s not what i need. i can be what she wants, hell i can be what she needs, even what she says she needs. i don’t see the value of that in my life. sex isn’t a justifiable reason to keep her around, there will always be others and is relatively easy to find. to combat loneliness is a poor excuse, plus plenty of relationships have had one person or both of them feeling lonely while still in a relationship. no need for that, no need for the passive aggressive remarks when the shine of the first few months wear off. theres a part of my head some where that thinks that i’m not giving this one a fair shot, like the last few. there’s no responsibility, there’s no repercussions. its bad when they start to blur together and you can’t remember who you took to coney island to have fun on the ferris wheel. much less that the person who wanted badly to do it was not the person who went on that particular adventure. i wash my face, consider shaving but figure i can do it tomorrow. moment of truth walking back to the bedroom, i’ve given her plenty of time to do something. not sure what i want, another round? a shower? her still sleeping or getting dressed? it doesn’t matter. i open the door to find her gone. the only way i even know she was there was her scent is still all over my bed and room. followed by a text a few hours later saying she had fun and we should do it again. staring at my messed up bed, looking around to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind. it looks like i am going to make it to work on time today.