I’m experiencing an increasing case of the “I don’t matter”s. So much that it’d probably be easier to disappear. And I don’t need people to try harder or act smarter or to learn to remember. Because it’s me.
And it makes me think. Maybe no one really matters. I mean, people matter to each other, and it’s my fault that I have no one. I’ve never really learned to have anyone. But in the largest meaning of the word, no one matters. We are all just blips. Time keeps going, and the longer time gets, the smaller chance our existence will impact anything.
I feel really abandoned, but I’m the one who abandons. I’m the one who packs up and moves away. I’m the one who doesn’t stay in touch. I’m the heart breaker with a broken heart.
I went to a friend’s family’s thanksgiving. I traveled to be there. On the way home, I realized it probably would have been better for everyone if I hadn’t gone. My being there changed nothing. I was just overwhelmed. Because I don’t like lots of new people. I don’t like feeling stuck. I’m not good at socializing. Why do I think that because there is a holiday, I need to spend it somewhere, when I’d be happier at home? I don’t matter.
I entered into something I didn’t mean to enter into. But it wouldn’t matter if I was here or not. They can argue over everything without me anyway. And there would probably be fewer arguments if I didn’t show up, because I’m too liberal, apparently. Anything I have to say just gets interrupted and forgotten. I don’t matter.
And when people say that nothing is going to change, it always changes. When they say you won’t get dropped, they’ll have excuses for when you do. Because it’s impossible to articulate anything real at all.
I feel alone. But I feel alone because I don’t know how to express what is inside of me. I don’t know how to make anyone understand this grief that has built up. I don’t know how to be anyone else. I don’t matter.