Screaming into a Void

I'm just so tired, you guys.

I got drunk this weekend. Way too drunk. Entire bottle of jager drunk. Blacked out, threw up in the bar (apparently) and woke up in my bed the next morning, tired, and praying for the sweet release of death.

I feel like a husk, like a ghost. I feel like people are looking right through me in a time when I just want to be seen, and more than that, to be touched. This is the least real I have felt in ages but I feel so far removed from even caring about it. I'm just tired of having to give myself strength from nothing at all. I am a closed system with no energy going in and far too much coming out. I've been like that for so long that now it feels like dry-heaving. There's nothing left, just fumes and dust.

I don't know if I'm even capable of feeling attraction anymore. Companionship has, for as long as I can remember, been my greatest desire, and having been refused its warmth for so long I no longer respond to its pull. I had a thought today about attraction. It requires hope and faith. One hopes that the object of their attraction will feel the same. One has faith that they are deserving of the affection of another. But there is almost nothing I can find in my life that would merit the hope and faith required to foster an attraction. My attractions have gone virtually all unrequited for so much of my memory that the idea of such a feeling being mutual is utterly absurd. My brain has built a road in itself that leads from interest straight to disappointment and despair. It's a road I now refuse to walk; I've come to its conclusion too many times to fathom any other outcome.

So I guess that's how my heart died. Now I don't really feel much of anything, except boredom, dissatisfaction, and ennui. I terribly crave the touch of another but am utterly powerless to accept it. The risk of failure and pain is too high. If I were to try and fail, it would simply be another in a long line of confirmations of a possible truth I'm genuinely not strong enough to accept: that I am simply not good enough.

I sometimes read my horoscope, and although I know that they are just a silly game, I can't help but get a bit excited when it tells me that romance is near. So far, these have always been false prophecies.

I just want something good to happen so fucking bad. I want to feel something good.

I just want proof that I'm even still fucking here. Proof that I deserve to be here. But I just can't fucking find any.