I’m tired of being alone.

I’m tired of having no close, consistent friends who truly know me.

I’m tired of coming home in the evening to an empty apartment.

I’m tired of merely being a background character who nobody considers close in any way.

I’ve never had anybody. I’ve rarely had anything much closer than one true friend, and much more rarely someone actually close. I’ve never had a family. No one that loved me anyway. I don’t remember all that much about my mother. Mostly a generic mother figure, but never one who took much of a place next to me. It’s mean, but I can’t really blame her. My father took all the space she might have taken had she not been sick all the time. And it’s pretty clear my father never loved me. Not as anything more than a moral responsibility and a potential legacy, anyway. Besides, beneath all he does for me out of his obligations still lurks a violent, untampered, explosive man. That same man who used to snap at me at the smallest thing. That same man who, countless times, claimed to be ashamed of having me for a son. That same man who, instead of helping me and guiding me in my formative years, held me hostage over the summer and forced me to do math and French exercises over the entire summers that followed the school years he considered unsatisfactory. That same man who hijacked any and all project I undertook and forced me to complete his way until I hated what I was doing.

That same man who multiple times said how, were it not for the law, he’d beat the shit out of me.

Point is, I’ve never had anyone. Truly.

And I’m sick of that.

I’m also sick of constantly craving companionship. Like anyone, I don’t want to die alone. I want to build a family, build a relationship with a woman, have children, leave behind people who I love, and I know love me back.

When I think about women, I don’t really fantasize about sexuality. Sure, part of it is that, but it’s far from the main thing. I fantasize about building a lasting relationship. I fantasize her missing me and me missing her. I fantasize about getting married. I fantasize about having children.

I fantasize about her liking me back.

I fantasize about having someone to embrace to know everything is going to be okay when I’m anxious.

And I’m tired, every time I take interest in someone, of feeling like a complete creep for thinking about women that way. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t talk about my feelings to anyone without making it all about me, me, me and me, like some egotistical narcissist. I’m tired of everyone telling me these things happen naturally and that I shouldn’t be seeking them, because they sure as hell don’t! How the hell is this one girl I like supposed to come to me if I don’t show her my interest? And how the fuck am I supposed to not worry about it when I’m so fundamentally unhappy? Work on yourself, they say. Become the best version of yourself, they say. I’m already doing that! And it’s not like all these other guys who have a happy relationship are perfect either! So why can’t I be lonely?? I’m pretty satisfied with most parts of my life and my personality, despite all these little aspects I keep working on and improving. All I feel like I’m missing is this one entire aspect of life I’m missing out on. And sometimes, it seems like I’ve missed out for good. I’ve only had one girl who took true interest in me, and I got cold feet because I didn’t want to jump with the first one to give me any kind of attention. Now, I see everyone finding their significant other – No, that’s a lie. They’ve already had it for years. Meanwhile I’m over here, and it increasingly feels like I’m never going to find anyone. Because when I do, either they already have someone else or they don’t even come close to reciprocating. And that’s only when I do. Because over here it feels like only 15% of the global population are women, and that’s including everyone. I’m not even going to consider how many of them are my age and compatible with me. And forget how many are single: I already know it’s 0%.

It’s frustrating to be constantly told that it doesn’t matter, that I have to be my own person first. I am my own person! I know who I am, who I want to be, how I’ll get there! Am I not allowed to year for actual human connection? To feel lonely? To want someone to love me?

I can dream all day about becoming an astronaut, but even when I succeed, it’ll feel utterly meaningless, because there won’t be anybody waiting for me down on Earth.