2011
New years, how I loath that day. Not only do I hate new years, but I despise the reasons I don't like it.
New years used to be about staying up late and watching the three stooges marathon until the ball dropped. My 18th year was different, cold, alone, starving except for food stolen from work and slipping into a neurotic depression. A few years of being a third wheel at peoples houses on that night. Than a half decade or so of closing off and spending it alone, even if I wasn't the only one in the room, as was the case on occasion. Last new years started with an undeserved and quite literal slap in the face. At least this year my wake up call was just the cat requesting I let him out of my room at 5am.
I don't get invited to parties, and the idea of me throwing one is laughable for a lot of reasons.
Somewhere along the line New years stopped being about infinite possibilities and moving forward, and started being about “ugh, another year? How many more of these do I have to sit thru?”
I hate that I'm always dateless. I hate that that's a big factor. I'm tired of hoping. I'm a mess in a lot of ways, no one should have to put up with that, even if anyone was willing to. I'm done trying and getting let down over and over. Especially by myself. No not tired, that implies I still do. I stopped, life is not a faery tale and most of us don't get happy endings.
I will die alone and by my own hand. But not today. Probably not tomorrow. Cras non est.
I come from nothing I'm going to nothing
I used to be sick of heartache, but I don't feel that much any more. I loved someone once. It didn't work out. Despite my best efforts, I haven't fallen for anyone since and I don't see how I ever will. Especially with someone who would fall for me. No, new years is a reminder of how nothing ever lasts. Julie and I broke up. I'm not upset, which I feel a little guilty about. We mutually agreed to the “let's be friends” speech. The fire wasn't there and I think I scared her off with my being a mess and all. We tried.
Tammy? Dead. Unreal. I don't know, I'm tired of thinking about it. She's inactive on all her websites and we talked on the phone a few times. Even if she was pulling the wool over my eyes, she was a real person and something happened to her. I'm far beyond being tired of being lied to, she was real and I dealt with a girlfriend being killed.
My father is a zombie...he came back. I thought for sure he was gone forever. I hope he found a warmer spot than his van to live in, but I won't know until my phone is turned back on.
The living situation is working out. I've adapted to being a shut-in. My indoor tomatoes are growing nicely. Kaylee is 27 inches long and refuses to eat pre-killed mice now.
My plan is to start 2011 buzzed on quiet self loathing, a lingering head cold and kissing a warm bottle of rum at midnight.
