"My Life"
My heart laid bare,
to all who will never see,
who will never read,
and who will never care.
-Michael Sherrillo

I've reflected heavily upon what realizations occurred to me yesterday, a line of thought along whose slow gentle curve I followed, sliding faster and faster in a downward spiral leading into a dark depression. It's a beautiful day outside, the sun is bright, there is a soft breeze rustling through the foliage, a few big puffy white clouds dot the sky like fluffy sheep grazing on an abundance of sunlight. I hate it when the weather doesn't match my mood, makes everything seem that much more contrasted. The day to bright, and my heart to bleak. My feelings make it impossible to have fun while the day makes it equally difficult to wallow in self-pity for a little while. Damn mother nature. I realize that I am a creature of contrast. I defeat myself in all I do and all that I am before I have even begun. I am the hopeless romantic, single, without love. I derive my greatest joys from being with people, and yet I am alone, and with no true friends. The words that came the night before echo through my mind, sometimes with pity, sometimes with anger, mocking, sympathetic, stating, singing... "The only consistent feature in all of my dissatisfying relationships is me." It's not that I don't have a girlfriend, it's that I have no one. That I feel utterly and totally alone. I have no friend to go to the beach with, no buddy to spend the day surfing and gawking at girl with. No partner to sit at night in each other’s room and talk or watch movies till the wee hours in the morning. How many times have I gone to the cafeteria alone, sitting by myself as the world of people, of laughter, of joy, of merriment, of friendship and fraternity passes by. Why no matter how many times I jump do I seem to consistently miss the parade of life that I see before me? I feel like I'm trapped in a twilight zone, stuck between the world of the dead and the world of the living, without the peace of one and the life of the other, invisible to both. Where are the people who care? How many weekends must I spend hours on the phone calling person after person to find something to do, somewhere to go? Why am I the one who always has to call everyone I know to be invited, why out of my dozens of acquaintances do they never call me? Because I am invisible. Because they don't care. I stood on the bridge and looked down and wondered, if I disappear, who would notice... and who would care? Whose life would be changed or lessened by my loss? My handful of family, of course... but the friends who never call, the acquaintances I never see, the people who are only their when they need me... in a campus of thousands, I can't think of a single person who would care... their lives would go on unchanged. This weekend I've tried to make many plans, I've left many messages... and this weekend, the only people who have called are my mom and my boss. I've just finished 8 shots of espresso in 10 minuets, maybe it's a caffeine addiction (my monkey's name is Starbucks), or maybe it's just plain ol' self-destructive behavior, a classic sign of depression (guess that Psych major is starting to pay off). Either way, I know that I am going to close the blinds, and spend the rest of my day wishing someone would call, someone would care, someone would want me and my company a fraction as much as I want theirs. All the time knowing it won't happen, and I'll fall asleep in my room, watching movies, alone. "The only consistent feature in all of my dysfunctional relationships is me." "I am the lover unloved, and I am alone."