i have to admit, i have just about been convinced that i am going to be alone the rest of my life.
there’s part of me who wonders why
there’s part of me who never cares
there’s part of me who wants to cry
there’s part of me who just despairs
if i had a dollar for every time
someone told me how amazing i am,
followed it by ‘let’s just be friends’
i forever wind up it seems,
standing outside, looking in
i’m not supposed to care.
that’s what ‘they’ always say
of course ‘they’ have
partners and friends to savor
as they toss those words my way
i’m tired of feeling
like the third wheel
wait… no…
actually, i’m tired
of being told i am it
like all the things
they say are so amazing
when tallied up
just don’t mean shit
not enough to be more
then distant and apart
not enough to deserve the giving
of the deepest, tender heart
i think i need to agree to admit
it’s just not meant for me to know
my path of this just seems bereft
hah. what a schmaltzy piece of shit that is, eh? it even reeks to me. but eyeore demands it. depressing fuck. i keep telling myself to give up. i don’t listen too well, obviously. stupid optimist that i am, i am always ready to believe ‘this time’ it will be different.
i’m a sucker that way.
friends are great. i love friends. have them all over the damn place. don’t get me wrong. happy for it. but they’re not in proximity, any of them. never have been. in a lot of ways, i often think that’s why i still have them at all.
not like history is able to show much evidence for proximity working in my favor.
i really don’t think i can go on like this much longer.