I need somebody to replace her. I need somebody real. She is a real live human being but she might as well be a unicorn. She might as well be a mermaid. Not real, but real enough for many many stories to be written about them.
Or maybe Sasquatch or the Loch Ness monster. Real enough for many many people to claim they saw them.
But she's not real to me and that fucking sucks. I even met her once. Face to face, but it's not like I got to really talk to her and it's not like it would've mattered even if I did. She wouldn't have fallen for me. She's got
a girlfriend... I'm pretty sure. If I knew how to spell out a frustrating cry I would. I am so small. I am so stupid. I am so invisible. But I need someone to see me. I need someone to want me, for once in my life. For forever in my life. I can't go on liking unrealistic
women. It's so pointless and not healthy. I need a girl to draw me out. I need her to pull me to her and make me forget about every unattainable girl I've ever desired, for whatever the reason. Every real but not real woman I've ever written into my stories,
pretending that they fell for me, that they liked me and saw something in me that made them want to get to know me more. That didn't judge me on how I looked or how I dressed or how my hair color was or how my face was makeup-less.
I feel like I'm a pretty normal person. Weird enough to be a little interesting. I have stories. I have trips and crazy little things I've done and weird places I've been to, and even ones not most people have gone to or done
before. I'm not needy. I don't beg for attention . I'm perfectly content being alone...until I'm not. Until I need somebody to hold me to tell me they love me and kiss me and want me in their arms and don't want to let go. Want me to call in sick the next
day so we can stay in bed together and binge orange is the new black.
I'm extremely independent. I go everywhere all on my own. I do everything all by myself. I'm not afraid. Well I get a little nervous sometimes, or I used to, but just like with anything, practice makes perfect and I am the perfect
single person after more than a decade of practice.
If I knew what to do, I'd do it. If I knew how to be, I'd be it. Is this really it? Is this all there is? Why are so many songs and shows and movies and musicals and books and commercials and literally everything to do with life,
all about having someone? Someone to call their own. That is EVERYTHING. That's what it's all about. Not the hokey pokey; love. Connection. A partner or whatever you want to label it. That's it. That's all there is. That's THE THING. And I'm like some kind
of alien, not from this planet, so I can't possibly have that. It's reserved for humans. I'm not compatible with it. At least that's what it feels like to me. I mean besides nuns who choose that lifestyle, is there literally anybody my age on the face of this
earth that's been single as long as I have? I don't think so. I'd dare you to find somebody who is. And she can't have been in a coma for a decade either. It's just embarrassing at this point. It's like at this point if I did meet a girl who was really into
me, if I told her how long I'd been single and how she was my first, there is no way she'd stick around. She'd find an excuse to leave. Why wouldn't she? It would freak her out. It's weird. I know. It's really weird. It's not sad; it's on a whole other level,
that doesn't have a word for it.
That's why I've given up. Not that I don't still have some hope left, buried deep down. Like I do before any trip or anything I choose to go to and be social at, a small part of me hopes I meet someone, anyone. A freaking friend,
something. Anything that's real. Real is what I need right now. Real would be nice. But even if I try to not get my hopes up, a small part of me still does. And then nothing happens, I meet no one, no one connects with me, or I think they do but it doesn't
end up going anywhere and I'm right back where I started. Giving up again and then another opportunity presents itself and the cycle repeats itself. I'm not going to meet a single person in L.A. At the walking dead premiere. I'm not going to talk to a single
person. I'm saying all this now, so that I don't get my hopes up again, because even when I don't consciously think about it, I somehow still do. I still think I will meet someone that I connect with. Someone that lasts. Someone real. And if I can convince
myself it definitely won't happen, then there's a chance I won't be disappointed when I'm right. And if I'm wrong, then I can be pleasantly surprised. Or more like a witness to a miracle. Because the parting of the Red Sea and Lazarus being raised from the
dead is on par with me actually getting a girl to really like me. Like, like me like me. In a real way. Real is best, not fake. We all know that.
