It sorta came on me this morning, how lonely I am. The anniversary of my mom's death is a little more than a month away. It doesn't seem like it's been almost a year since I've gotten to talk to her, or see her. I still live with my brother, but we rarely see each other, and we're not...close. We get along well, but there's not really any affection there. I don't think we've ever hugged once in my life.
Someone I love a great deal suddenly cut me from their life, and I don't fully understand why. I know she was going through some hard times, and maybe I wasn't a good enough friend. But I got a rather abrupt message and now I can't get any responses to anything I text or write and I wonder if it's something I did, or said, or didn't. I'll still wait, because I said I would, and because it would be worth it if she'd someday talk to me again.
The only person I really have left, the only one who's stood by me these last couple years, lives on the opposite side of the country. Though I'll get to see her this summer, it'll only be a short reprieve, and then I'll probably feel even more lonely when I'm back home by myself.
I have co-workers, but I'll never really fit in with them. The strange girl who sits in the break room drawing or writing, or crocheting, listening to music from the 60s-90s or anime theme songs. The only people at work who really talk to me are a rather nice gay boy a couple years younger than me who often gives me rides to work and a woman with teenage children who probably has a dirtier mind than I do, an curses quite fluently. They're nice, and fun to be around, I guess, but they're not people I can fully connect with.
They're not people who understand me.
It always seems that people who do end up going away.
Is it something about me? Is it some sort of curse?
Am I just never satisfied with what I have?
Should I just not try and write journals when I'm tired from work and my energy drinks have worn off?