Sometimes I’ll try to reason with myself saying that it isn’t my fault, that it wasn’t because of me that she left. I’ll try to blame her. I’ll bargain and try to find answers that just aren’t there. Reasoning. Motives. Anything. Nothing… At the end of the day, when I have my head on the pillow and look up to a dark ceiling with no sounds but the wind outside my window I just accept that I’m the problem. I’m what was wrong. I am what’s wrong with me. Fuck… I shouldn’t even be allowed to love. 

People say that being an asperger is no reason to feel like you shouldn’t expect to be happy, she also used to say that before she grew tired. It’s like a by-stander telling a man that just fell 9 stories into the ground “You’ll be fine”. The by-stander is not the one feeling the pain, he isn’t the one lying there with broken dreams and lost hope, he’s just a person that happened to be watching at a particular direction at a particular time. Couple that with depression and you got yourself the recipe for loneliness. Every day, every conversation, has that feeling that it is just a step forward on the path that leads to that unavoidable end line. That line where people realize “This is not my problem, why am I even trying to deal with this?” so they just stop… And honestly, who can blame them? I can’t. And once I focus on that, I can’t stop thinking about it.

While you’re a kid they find it “kinda cute” depending on how much you let it show, how good you are at hiding it. I wasn’t good. I was the weird kid that didn’t want to talk to anybody. The kid that wouldn’t participate in any school events. The weird brother of that one guy that’s a pretty cool kid. That’s what I was. As you get older and harder it’s not “cute” anymore, it’s just plain weird, immature, stupid. Sentences like “It’s not weird at all, don’t worry” and “I do that from time to time to, it’s okay” become patronizing, a habit, they lose all their meaning, you can’t trust them anymore because all that use them, eventually stop trying. You don’t want people to stop trying, so you start hiding everything so that they don’t need to try, you grow a shell that shows a different, stronger you to everyone until eventually, you don’t even know who you are anymore. And so you get more and more alone because, as it was said in my favorite show, “everybody loves you… but nobody likes you, and that’s the loneliest feeling in the world” 

(Probably nothing of this makes any sense, but is just what I had in my mind and needed to put it out somehow because I have noone else to do this with.)

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