The scent of agitation 

I try to stay focused away from the lonely period in my life which seem to become frequent. I wonder how I am so oblivious to everyone finding relationships, someone to be with be they gay, straight, bi, trams, yet still not me. 

My anxiety starts to rise when I see new couple pics the smiles the post the happiness, and that still I have none of it, how it twists me up emotionally, how it corrupts my heart. How it undeniably shakes me once again, how I can feel my mind telling me I am trash, that everyone can be happy but you can’t, that your very existence is wrong. Being alive is wrong, living is a punishment that is especially designed for me.

Oh how I want to scream and howl and lament in defeat, how I want tears to stream down my face, to cry so hard that I can’t make sound escape from throat. Where my muscles ache so much from the agony of being alone. I feel like no one gets it, that it’s something that has to be ignored, that my pain has to be ignored. 

I had to look away, I couldn’t cope with being a disappointment, I couldn’t cope with feeling inadequate, something that people have to get away from, that I am not worthy of being loved. That I have to go through life being alone, and I don’t know how to get away from it. It’s the only thing that motivates me to want to kill myself, it’s the only thing that hurts me more than anything. There are very few things in life hat have hurt me, but nothing comes close to this. I would rather die than think or feel that I will walk this earth without a mate, and spend my days bitter.

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