Seriousness and stuff
I. Feel. Worthless.
Am I worth it? Are you? Who the fuck is?
Man, I don’t know.
I’m tired of being funny. Or trying to be funny.
I just want to talk.
Let us take a walk down memory lane.
When I was a kid, more like a teen, I had this constant need for more than what I was being given. My parents were amazing. I wasn’t abused, I was loved and nurtured and all that. But I was always missing something.
Somebody else was always more loved, or better liked than I was.
That’s how I felt anyway.
And I needed more. Desperately needed more.
I was a quiet, introverted smart ass. I had a few girlfriends, but really most of my friends were guys. But were they actually my friends? Nah, not usually.
They just wanted…well, you know what they wanted. And not because I was so insanely hot or anything like that. I think they could sense my yearning to be loved or needed or wanted and they used that to their advantage.
And then they dropped me.
The feeling when a friend suddenly starts asking for more than friendship and then drops you like a hot potato when you say no, or even when…
