Or the lack thereof.
I haven’t had many lasting friendships over my lifetime. I seem to rely on the men in my life as my source of companionship, and fall in with their friends. When a relationship ends so do most of the “friendships” that went with it.
I don’t know if I have any close friends. Certainly no shoulders to cry on and few people who would come to my aid when I really, really need it. As my family gets older (sisters in their 50s–I’m still mid-30s), so does my circle of people who give a fuck about me.
It’s a truly awful feeling to know that maybe you did more damage to people than good in this life. Maybe your life wasn’t really worth a lot. Maybe no one will miss you.
As a teacher, I feel like I’m supposed to “touch lives”, whatever the hell that means. Most days I’m just trying to get by. I spend 8-10 hours doing something that might not matter in the long run…to pay for a life that also might not matter.
It sure is a long life. I thought it would get better. Instead it just gets different.