11th Blogoversary

So yeah, it’s 11 years since I published my first barely coherent blog post, and I’m here. Mood : Ambient pessimism.

Can’t say I’ve progressed much since 2020 blogoversary, except maybe in weight gain, but I’m here.

This place, heavens, is my ‘safe space.’

The Jest

I haven’t allowed myself time to get mad yet if the anger will ever come. I don’t want to lose people I consider friends, one who I consider family. I’m trying to chalk it up to their youth and that if they knew how bad it would end up hurting me, they wouldn’t have done it.

They made up that my crush was an author on Medium. I knew he definitely had the talent for it, as he’d show me snippets of writing before. As I read my crush’s alledged blog and his Sad Emo Incel tweets, what can I say, it made me want to comfort him and love him even more. I even imagined some of his Tweets were about me. One asked ‘me’ why ‘I’ loved him, that he was much smarter than ‘me’ and he couldn’t love himself. One said that it made him sad that ‘I’ thought he was pretty. I had said to Anonymous that I was prettier than him a couple days beforehand in jest, so I thought Incel was tweeting about that. It gave me such a rush to think he was secretly telling me things through his 3k follower Twitter. I even said something about liking intellectuals and the next day, he tweeted something like, the reason he became an intellectual was ‘because it was one sphere women hadn’t infiltrated.’ Incels say the darndest things.

It made me bolder than I otherwise would’ve ever dared to have been. So I declared myself to my friend, the first person I ever said it to. He ignored me at first, but finally told me he had ‘zero interest in me, that people were lying to me.’

At first, I hoped he cared for me. I thought I had proof that he liked me back, a purloined screenshot, seemingly of my friend confessing he liked me, appreciated me always being there for him, and that he liked that I read his entire blog.

Now if you know me, a big thing for me is feeling like I’m needed even slightly. It gave me a raison d’etre for a minute.

When I found out it was all fabricated, I was devastated. Weeping, ugly, fat tears. Not only did I have to contend with rejection, the knowledge that he didn’t need me at all broke me. I still haven’t quite processed the whole thing. There’s a part of me that wishes to believe it was real and my friend asked everyone to tell me a story.

What likely was meant to happen in the joke was I was supposed to be weirded out by Incel Andy’s writing and swear off my crush…. But when I like someone, I like them faults and all.

So here I am as alone as ever.

When I told him the truth, I knew he wouldn’t want me. I don’t know why I hadn’t been able to steel myself for the inevitable rejection that came about 24 hours ago.

All my life, I’ve carefully been able to hide from being rejected outright by just not saying anything to anyone I crushed on. I knew I was too hideous, and that my personality was too drab to overcome the ugliness. In fact, my personality just underscores the ugly.   Plus I act like an idiot, walk like an idiot, and dress like an idiot. If it quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck.

When I look back on my life, there were clues that I’d always play the roll of the reject. The man who laughed as I choked when I was 5, then yelled at me when I was able to bring up the candy and spit it out on the ground. My kindergarten teacher who never failed to let me know she despised me. The other teachers talking about me when my first grade teacher fawned over me. “I don’t know what she sees in her. She just stays to herself.” They thought I was too stupid to know. The fact is, I was just bright enough to understand.

I wish my mother had miscarried me, like she did the baby before me. I should never have been born. I will never be a positive to society, no one will ever need me, and most certainly no one will ever want me.

To think I was lulled into believing someone could care about me.  It looks like I didn’t remember the lessons I learned in 2012 when I fled from the guys I roomed with. I’ll just fucking never learn.

He has zero interest in me, none. Zilch. I will always be the punchline in people’s jokes.