I wonder if I'll ever have friends

I don't really know how to start. Then again, I'm never sure of anything I do, or say, or write, or think. Except for one thing; that I am just a lonely twenty year old person, as disconnected from others as I can be right now. 

I know people. Everyone knows people. I have acquaintances, which again everyone has. But friends? Sadly not. I can't connect to people anymore (or have I ever?). I'm too weird for the weird kids, too strange to fall under eccentric and too shy to even be called anything more than just background furniture. I mean sure, I'm me. That's important, right? To be yourself? But myself is an overly sensitive person who has too many interests that don't go far enough to talk endlessly about, who cares too much for everyone and gets trampled on in return, who sometimes just gets lost in daydreaming and stays silent for a minute or two. or five. - but can then never share any of that because there's nobody who'd listen, or care, or even want to know. 

For someone who calls themself shy, I've met all kinds of people. So many different crowds, and interests, and personalities, and whatever else. 
Yet I have stayed an observer, all this time. It never gets further. I just watch. I try and talk, and continue it outside of wherever we may be but no, by then they've figured out I'm just a poorly stuck together exterior with a jumbled mess on the inside. 
They move on, I fade away. 

I've only been over to someone's house once in the past twelve years, and that was last week. I'm not sure they'll invite me back around though, it was sort of by consequence of the day dragging on. There were five of us in total though so it wasn't just a one-on-one thing, thankfully. 

I want to matter. I want to be a person in someone's life that they think of when they see something they know I like, or have mentioned, or something. I just want to be alive in someone else's life? To really matter. To exist somewhere else other than just in my ruin of a mind. 

I've always tried to treat people the way I'd want to be treated. There's a point where it stops being about others, and just me. There's something wrong with me. Like, baseline me. I'm boring, uninteresting, ugly of body and mind, heartless, cold, distant, excluding, aloof. 

Dead.

If nobody thinks of me, I pretty much am right? When even my family tries to avoid things that relate to me. 

I may as well be. 

User Comments
Anon-1

Have you ever thought you might be an introvert? When you read about it, it can help you understand why you react in certain ways to things and make you realise it isn't something wrong with you its just how you are wired. Quiet by Susan Cain (I think her name is) is a really good book - you might want to check it out x