I took my medication early last night because I couldn’t bear to be awake past 7pm. The time was dragging too slowly, as I paced around the apartment. Someone was knocking on my door around 6pm, but I was too scared and too ugly to see who it was and answer it. The winter storm has passed and the weather outside looks tranquil, though it’s still extremely cold outside.
I had a nightmare about being imprisoned in a large room with a very high ceiling and small windows that were too high up for me to reach. The furniture resembled the furniture in my apartment: bland, modern and minimalist. Insects and reptiles were being captured and used as bioweapons against en enemy I didn’t get to see. A former boss of mine was there and he asked me to get him Pepsi.
I woke up around 5am and made coffee. I read my book, Second Glance a little, but stopped because the story was making me feel extremely sad. The main protagonist of the story lost his ex-wife in a car crash and thought he’d never find love again and he didn’t want to live, because he felt he had no one to live for. Ultimately, even he found love again, but I didn’t and will never. I’ve almost finished the book and unlike the story of my existence, it will probably have a happy ending. I know for a fact that some people read my blog, knowing that my existence isn’t going to have a happy ending, perhaps even deriving pleasure or relief from the fact that as bad as their life may be, at least they’re not me.
Perhaps the book found me because it’s another message telling me that it’s okay to give up. But I can’t read anymore, because I feel overwhelmed with sadness and despair. Now I’ve got to kill at least 2 hours before I can go to the clinic to access the internet and escape my torment for a while. That is, assuming the clinic isn’t closed again because of the snow, as it was yesterday., although it shouldn’t be, as the winter storm has now passed.
I’m never going to find the love I once had. I’m never going to fit in or feel like I belong here. I’m never going to be comfortable rnoogh in my own skin. I don’t want to get old. I’m tired of being alone and afraid. Therefore, there won’t be any ‘happy ending’ to this pathetic story.