An unfortunate reason to self-destruct

Love.

Little did I know it in life. Little did my family prepare for it. But I never thought little of it.

I'm lying on my Sis's couch, a failure in all I care about. But what I care about most is the one I lost along the way. The one who held my heart without even trying.

She left early in '15, of course because this story is so typical, and I really can't tell you why I live.

I have an overwhelming apathy rise up in me because there's nothing I care about in my life. Nothing that makes me take the steps to recenter myself and get back to a semblance of productive human. There's nothing in this world that drives the animal in me. I'm barely hungry, I eat a single meal a day. I've lost 50lbs over this time. I love food too. I just get this lightly nauseated feel when I eat. My biology knows its pointless.

I won't have kids, not can't but won't, there's nothing wrong with me. I am never going to have kids by choice. I am not particularly fond of kids but many things lend to this decision: there's an abundance of people, they're costly and etc. Essentially though, I don't have the desire. So as an organism I'm defunct.

I have always been counter culture and anti-consummerism. So nothing entices me, my needs can be met by 5k every year so why be ambitious? Why be greedy? Sure, a big house full of shit looks nice but I realized a long time ago I could live in a room that was barely longer than I am tall and maybe twice as wide. Essentially, a bed with tight walls around it. I don't have a love of things, I have a cumputer to cover my entertainment and information interests. I don't care about shiny rocks. I don't care about green paper. I don't care about unliving things.

I am godless. I am a void of spiritiuality. Long ago I put to bed the idea of monsters, ghosts, and other supernatural being. I don't have some man in the sky watching out for me. There is no divine force that balances out my life. Anything spiritual. There's nothing for me after I die. There's not even the pain of death or fear because I took a long time to sort that out. I'm just here in a very real and mundane world.

But I was a nerd. I loved to learn, I loved to get lost in a video game, I loved to just dream and imagine. But it faded or maybe was switched off in one action: she left.

I guess details of that are in order: I loved a girl. For perspective, we were together for 6 years and had been friends for a few years prior. You could call her my dream girl, I still do. She was this lovely radiant thing entering my life. She was the removal of any semblance of happiness when she left.

I guess, it comes down to how much I learned to ahte myself: she didn't love me anymore and suddenly, neither did I. Who is this man that pushes out the one he loves? Who si this fool that didn't see her pain? I can only assume I wanted her to hurt. I have to be this awful, stupid and otehrwise cruel man. I am a man I hate. I can't forgive him for what he did or didn't do to keep her.

Then comes the logical argument: oh but there's other fish. That never helps people, don't tell people that. Staistically, 1 suitable woman exists every ten miles on the land masses of the planet. Does that mean I'll meet them? Does that mean I'll be in a place to care for them and love them?

I'm just a hermit who made the mistake of trying to be a lover. My life doesn't have purpose. It doesn't have meaning. It's this chaotic and awful thing that hasn't kill me yet. Oh but it tries. There's nothing going for me, there's nothing I even want to go for me.

It's been 10 months almost. This is my mind, every day. Scratching at whatever makes me linger here instead of stepping out in front of bus or something.

This slow self desctruction running on love.

That I loved some more than myself doesn't bother me. That I don't love myself doesn't bother me.

That I love someone, hurt them, pushed them away, or made them unhappy bothers me. That I wake up with an apology on my lips to a deaf and mute memory bothers me.

At the end of the day I take out the abbacus and tally my sins. Tally the value the world holds. Tally up what makes me valuable as a human to society and myself.

You'd never know it, watching me smile and laugh with friends. You'd never know how much hurt a person has in them, I sure didn't.

It's dumb to regret, there's no way to take back an action. You can apologize but you can't take it back. You can make ammends, you can try harde rin the future, you can do anything to correct it. But that life isn't coming back.

It's not that I hate where I am so strongly. It's that I loved what I had so much.

And just like my sorrow, I can't think of a clean ending. It'll go on for hours if I think on it, if I let it flow from my heart. So all I can do is abruptly stop.

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