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Sunday, November 2

I Wrote This.

Loneliness is the worst feeling. Feeling alone when youíre amongst people is even worse. BEING alone when youíre amongst people is definitely the worst feeling.

It is with that in mind that I choose to tell the tale of an evening spent at home. Home. My home. The single place in the world where I should feel wanted and secure. The biggest single lie ever told.

To put it in simple terms, tonight was a house party that we were hosting in honour of Peteís (one of my housemates) 21st birthday. Well, in any case it turned out to be more of a ďsitting around drinking social eventĒ than a party, but it was okay, I suppose. I had / have had a fair few beers, but Iím generally feeling none the worse for wear. A little double vision, from time to time, but I know what Iím doing and what Iím typing.

As per usual at one of these bashes, I had my momentary (read ď15 minutesĒ) pause where I felt totally and utterly alone. I get this way every so often, especially when all around me I see everybody being happy in each otherís company. This isnít to say that I felt as if I didnít know anybody, because I knew a shitload of people who were there. I just felt weird, probably because everybody who I knew there (that wasnít one of my housemates) was a friend of a friend. I knew them well enough to be at least amicable, and at most very friendly with, but they werenít quite MY friends.

I felt let down, because a few of my friends whoíd promised that theyíd come to the party didnít come, which in turn led to my being (relatively) friendless throughout. Add to this my annoyance about (or, resignation to) the fact that I am still single, and probably will be for a while to come, and Iím sure that it is clear just how crap I was feeling. Especially considering that there were a load of couples around.

I fucking hate how just about everywhere I go at the moment there are always couples around. Always, and always displaying their mutual love (lust?) through physical reassurances to each other, such as kissing and so forth. Are they particularly insecure, insomuch as they need to constantly display to the world (each other) that they are in love (lust)? I had a pair of friends who were like that. They were so insecure that they just had to be all over each other at every single opportunity, just to reassure each other that they were wanted and appreciated.

I canít be doing with any of that shit. Iím very (sort of) secure with myself, especially when it comes to having any kind of relationship with the opposite sex that goes beyond friendship. He says, being a virgin and without a girlfriend for over three (three!) yearsÖ

I reckon that I am one of those people who expects the world to fall into his lap. A degree, a job, a career, a woman, a relationship, a family, absolutely everything. I donít want to go out into the big wide world and hunt for these things. I donít want to be rejected. Ever. I guess that Iím scared of rejection. Big deal. Who isnít? Everybody wants to be accepted, everybody wants to conform to some extent. We all do, itís human nature. So why do I feel so weird to be this way?

Perhaps as an illustration of this point, I should draw attention to my methods of action whilst in a club (etc). Iíve been going to pubs, clubs and bars for about three to four years, and in all of that time, Iíve only ever asked one girl who I didnít know to dance. One! In about hundreds of times that Iíve gone out, itís only ever been one girl that Iíve asked to dance. I like dancing, I really do, but I feel so scared of rejection (at least subconsciously, at any rate) that I never ever ask a girl to dance. Incidentally, the one time I did ask a girl to dance, it didnít get me anywhere. So, 0% success rate then. Brilliant.

And just what am I going to do to change all of this? Absolutely fuck all. Being scared of rejection doesnít go away with time, and without facing that fear. And yet Iím too scared to even face the fear. Iím too scared to go out and just try to get girls to dance with me (as an example). The fear of being rejected even overwhelms common sense, and even the deep-down chivalrous nature that requires men to be the one to risk everything by being the ones who initiate conversation, etc. I have that chivalrous nature (hey, so Iím middle class. Fuck you), and that also fucks me over in this aspect of life (existence?).

What a pointless and nihilistic way of existing, you might say. Well, so be it. Every (most) other aspects of my life are tootling along just fine, so why risk them for the possibility of acceptance unconditionally by another? Majority rule. It works, even if the minority is right.


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