Broken.

Dear all,

I am so lonely. I feel so fundamentally disconnected from other members of the human race. I feel I have more in common with Peruvian peasants or the Chinese office workers I see on TV than I have with my “closest” friends. And, once again, my love life is non-existent. I am now convinced at Luke fancies Nadia, even if the feeling is not reciprocated.

Chris seems to be AWOL on Facebook, and he is usually the one I can count on to give me a little hope at times likes this. It’s too late to call. I’m not that desperate. Just low.

It’s strange. I seem to have it all academically, I have friends, I don’t seem to be unhappy. Yet instead of measuring my self worth by what I am good at (school grades, for example) I choose to let my defining characteristic when it comes to self esteem be my romantic/sexual successes. And given my track record, this is not a good thing. It’s a rubbish thing. And I essentially allow the actions of others to seriously affect my self worth.

I’ve been kissed three times. All by the same person. Who was my sort-of boyfriend at the time, but I don’t know why we ever got together, really. There’s nothing really wrong with him, apart from inattentiveness – we’re just not well suited. And I haven’t so much as held hands with a member of the opposite sex for nearly eighteen months. And now it looks like it’ll be another eighteen months at least.

Luke and I were going to meet up this Thursday. But he’s been asking to meet Nadia in person, as apparently it’s weird being facebook friends without being real life friends. So he asked me to invite her to our thing on Thursday. And now I don’t know what to do. Because it will be awkward if it’s us three together. But I can’t not go because then they’d be alone together. And Nadia would never forgive me for deserting her. But I can’t bear to be near them, together. I’d be watching Luke’s every move.

I think I need to meet someone new. Someone no one else knows. And to capture them quickly. But how? I’ll never manage.

And so my heart is breaking, breaking, breaking. What, oh what, to do?

Love is overrated,
Wilhelm Scream.

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