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Apex Depth
May 30, 2022
Not sure how constructive this can be. I feel exhausted and made some quick notes about the stream of piping hot thoughts ramming through my head and scraping across and colliding with each other. Writing that was almost enough. Helped with the feelings anyway even though they keep happening. I don't think I noted that, though. How my feelings have nowhere to go. Like with the last girl I was with. Just waited a year until it stopped hurting. The year never even seemed to pass she just seemed to be there a minute ago but she was gone, long gone, and then she was moved on. with someone else. While I still felt cheated on. Some feelings are too big even if the chick was a stupid idiot. She can be the biggest dumbest idiot but the loss stays with you because it tells you how much is wrong, how you fail. That's another thing my friend said as she pushed me into the void to deal with the horrifyingly stark depiction of me from how she talked about me before. There have been times when I hated a chick but ultimately decided I did some things wrong or I'd question if I was fucking up. Even when my friend said something along those lines it still felt like we were looking from the same set of eyes. I felt like closer to her than I had for the past decades, but in addition to suggesting that I had fucked up way more often than she let on, she also pointed out how my version of feeling close isn't anything and how utterly selfish disgustingly selfish I am. So even the affection I have for her was reduced to nothing. I felt like I was at the kiddie table and she was letting me know. And not that I should compare myself to her bf or anyone else she thinks is so great. Because how can I be compared when I don't register as anything. Like everything up until this was just entertaining my delusions and now every paranoid thought I had, all my jealousy, was confirmed, not necessarily because it was warranted but because my place is so beneath her real life, me telling her I'd like to be able to protect her if I ever had to, was such a ludicrous notion it doesn't even end up being compared to anything because it's like a cat hissing or a child with a wooden sword. Just utter inconsequence. She said she wasn't leaving me but she didn't have to after she described me. I tried speaking normally after but I have been gone ever since. The conversations after that were just a fading signal from before she made me look at myself and confirm every reason I dont want to date, or ask if I'm attractive, or ask if I'm appreciated. I never wanted to feel as low and as disgusting as I did when she described me to myself. That's why I told her everything, because she would never do that to me. Sharing my weaknesses with her and being honest about every obsessive thought would never get the response I'd hate to hear by asking a woman out. My friend would always be with me. Not looking down at me. Not ripping my guts out after I've spilled them to her. Suggesting I clean up the mess from these decades of oversharing.
but they are ripped out. in a sense. not literally thankfully. we're not there yet.

I have not looked at my notes yet. Hope they can fit in and not sound completely separate.

She was the last person I would turn to when every other place in the world seemed hostile or indifferent. I have been too jealous but I could also keep reminding myself of all the things she did for me when the jealousy got too big. It would stay big but become manageable because of the special attention she gave me. But she went after me on so many levels that every response to the repeating thoughts is prepopulated with her telling me whats wrong with me, or right with someone else, and the contrast between those two things hammering my head over and over with none of the attention anymore to make it easier. I always default to paypigging or being a perv when in distress and dont want to burden or cant talk in detail about it or just want to stay positive. But there's no one to talk to, ans nowhere for me to perv.

I was trying to rationalize that maybe things weren't gone, that maybe my paranoia was paranoid and it had to be because she told me she'd never leave me and I can trust her but turns out I was making her uncomfortable too. Her. The last fucking person in the fucking world. i told her, not even that long ago. may 14. i told her that whenever i talk to her, there's more than this. Like she was the world to me. I once wrote that everything about this place was mapped onto Rocky after he passed. That seems to be a theme. A few very important figures to me who make sense of everything wrong or chaotic, whose existence represents somewhere to turn that isn't the void, and wherever they are there is no void, and already my thoughts are prepopulated with her telling me why that's wrong.

I don't know how to face anyone. How to he honest or optimistic at all when I managed to disgust the last person and be shut out by the last place that feels like home. Maybe I didn't even disgust her. Maybe I just mattered less and less and less until I was so small that I didn't have to disgust her to make her recoil push me out further than ever. I just had to continue as I was and watch myself get smaller and smaller, far away from her. void.

I looked forward to speaking to her after work or in the morning. It's after work now. I'm looking forward to sleeping in my car. I wore myself down by thinking of the same things all day and trying to force myself to think of something else. Looking forward to sleep.