So, I am watching this movie “Five Feet Apart” where two people suffering from cystic fibrosis fall in love with each other but have to remain at least 6 feet apart from each other. I am watching these two beautiful people go through this torture and I am thinking: At least you have love, right? I mean, I am a somewhat healthy guy who has a potentially good future career wise and I can’t even find love. I try and fail, I try and fail and I have tried and failed so many times that now I am thinking that maybe I don’t have love written in the record of my life up above. Maybe, God actually missed making another person for me. Or maybe he thought of doing an experiment at loneliness and he chose me as his lab rat. Whatever be the case, I would love to have what these two characters have in the movie. But who am I kidding? A guy whose own father doesn’t give a crap about him, whose sister just wants to talk to him to show him off to other people and whose mother suffocates him with all her fears and stupid assumptions, how can this guy even expect someone to love him? He doesn’t even know how it feels to be loved.
I do not feel myself to be a sad person. I choose to be happy with what I have. But sometimes, just sometimes, the loneliness gets to you. It gets to you so bad that you feel like crying, and even then, you are crying alone because there is literally no one around you. And it has nothing to do with the COVID shit that’s going on, you feel alone even if you are standing with people in a fucking music concert, because everything feels pretentious, everything feels false, everyone seems to be a liar.
Today was a holiday, a non-working day. Tomorrow, this other thing is going to start again - the corporate work. The same shitty cycle of client management, team management, time management, management, management and more management. Four days of grinding, then another weekend, then 5 days of grinding then another weekend. The same story, over and over and over again. I am locked in room, working my ass off every day, getting calls from my mom asking me to take care of myself and her big list of do’s and don’ts, and by the evening I will be so mentally exhausted that I will wish God to end this world. And then the same cycle again.
I am 31 years old. I have lived alone since 2008. I have gone to Spain, lived there for 6 months and come back in one piece. I have done things that amaze people. And still, my mom doesn’t leave me alone. Still, she doesn’t trust me to take care of myself. Still, I have to assure her every day that I am good. I can’t hink of going on solo trips because it’s not a solo trip if your mom keeps calling you four times a day asking about what you are doing, where you are, are you doing something dangerous and blah blah blah.
So, bottom line, I am alone. I am so fucking alone but surprisingly, I don’t ever think of killing myself. No, I want to live. Even of this life is shitty, I want to this shit to the end. I don’t want to give up because that would prove everyone around me right (that I am weak, I am worthless and I am full of shit) and I can’t let these fuckers win. So I live through each day, forcing myself towards sanity.
Oh yeah, and if someone tells me here that everything’s gonna be alright, let me tell you I have been hearing this since I was 3 years old. Yeah, my life has been shitty since then. I was diagnosed with a liver disease at 3 years of age and was on complete bedrest for 10 years. When I was able to get up from bed and started going to school, I was still on medication and was still recovering from the physical weakness of the disease. My classmates thought this was a good way for entertaining themselves and I was bullied throughout high school, I went to engineering in 2008 and I think the rest of it you have gotten some idea above. So no, everything’s not gonna be alright. My life is shit and I have accepted that, nothing’s going to change that. The future doesn’t hold anything bright and green for me. Nope. This is it. This is what it is and this is what it’s going to be till I grow old and die. So please, don’t patronize me and say everything’s gonna be fine. Fuck that.
Well, this was all for today, folks. See you, maybe tomorrow, maybe next weekend, maybe never. Who knows?
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