Man we killed 2015 didn't we?
I'm writing this at 10 to 2 in the morning before I go to bed so bare with me please.
2015 was pretty standard, it was almost a total redo of 2014 really, only with more drinking and slightly less self-loathing. Towards the end of the year things got really good, I went back to work and earned enough to keep myself happy, I started to wrap my head around college work. I was really feeling good; complete, almost as good as I'd felt as a kid. It was like I didn't have a care in the world.
Then reality struck, after going through one of my bi-monthly low-points (self-loathing at an all time high. this is the time where I make horrible jokes/scathing remarks about myself) I bounced back and finally got into my first real relationship. What can I say? I was stunned, I'd been so used to being my usual lonely, hateful self that I had no clue what to do. It was like most things in my life, a bitter irony one could only appreciate from the front row or through a screen.
I'd been looking for a relationship, and pining after what I thought would fill the gaping void within my person for so long, that I hadn't realized I knew nothing about what to do in one. We trundled on for a month or so, it was rocky at first but aren't all relationships at first? I'm not sure but as time went on I realized it just wasn't for me. That level of commitment, communication and intimacy was just something my brain couldn't cope with.
My college work began to slip. I had been trying to do more work at home to justify my procrastination in class but my new commitments on top of the old proved just to much for me to handle.Something had to give; college was out of the question. I was in my final year and I have no intention of throwing that away to make someone else happy. I considered quitting my job to give myself more free-time, more time to "study" I said to myself, but I couldn't do it.
I don't see myself as a particularly intuitive person, I'll often describe myself as a grunt, someone made to follow instructions instead of write them. I went through the motions to maintain that relationship but I'll be damned if I knew how to feel; and that's what I didn't like. I didn't want my facade of confidence too become to elaborate, for someone to get attached to it and to be hurt when it crumbled to dust and was blown away. It just wouldn't be fair for someone to fall in love with a mask I'd made.
It didn't feel good but I knew it was the right choice for all involved. I only hope I can bounce back from this one. I'd hate for this to be the beginning of the end, just before the third act is about to start.
The long and short of it is I'm a emotionally-distant, stoic depressed weirdo and that's exactly how I want to stay. My time is short, I don't want to waste it pretending to be something I'm not.