My new theory on why I am doomed to die alone

Oh great, we’re going over this again? Really?
Oh bugger it. Let’s just get it over with.

ONWARD!

There’s the really good song by Ben Folds and Nick Hornby called “From Above”. The song is about the idea that even though everyone in the world has a soulmate, that doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll have the good fortune to meet them.
Now this is all well and good and interesting, but one thing that irks me is that the two characters in the song, while they don’t find each other, do fall in love with and marry other people.
This is satisfying on the level that it helps confirm my belief that it is possible to love more then just the one person. But it is also rather frustrating, as a person who has had quite literally zero luck ever at all on the romantic front, and by the looks of things, never will. I mean, it’s not that simple is it? “Oh the tragedy, you don’t meet the one so you settle for someone else. Boo hoo.”
BUT WHAT IF THERE IS NO ONE ELSE? What if there isn’t a ‘one’? What if you really are doomed to be alone your whole life?
I mean, it must happen right? There must be other people in the world who have no idea what it feels like to be desired. Who has no idea what it feels like to be in love, to be in a relationship with another person. Surely.
Here’s something that happened to me yesterday.
After a job interview I managed to entirely and spectacularly bomb out in, I ran into an old friend. She told me about four months ago she and her high school boyfriend had split. How sad. But it was okay, because she had a new boyfriend now. Oh, and just after she started dating him, a guy from her work had asked her out, and even though he did it in a totally sweet and romantic way, she had to turn him down.
Wow.
See, she made it seem so offhand and normal, and all I could do was stand there feeling like a freak as my jaw hit the ground. Wow, I thought, your life is amazing.
God it must feel good to know that you are desirable. That people actually like you and want to spend time with you and be a part of your life.
I have no idea what that feels like, and I want to so much. More then anything. (Except maybe to get something published. That would be kind of completely amazing too.)
I mean for fucks sake. Psychopaths manage to find people that love them. Junkies, murderers, rapists, idiots, arrogant shits, creeps, losers. How do they do it?
I have a new theory now however. There actually, simply, without question, must be something wrong with me. I’m not saying this for pity, it’s an actual theory. In some aspect I have failed drastically as a human being, either in looks, personality, people skills, or something else.
For a good part of my life, despite the general sinking feeling of impending doom, i’ve always been fairly certain that I am able to be friendly, pass as intelligent, pass as agreeable, and am at least not that completely butt ugly.
Maybe I was wrong.

I don’t tend to believe in fate, destiny, things being written in the stars and all that crap. I’m all for self determination. But even so, for all the logic and talking and solid unshakable facts, I’m still human. And I love stories.
Maybe it is that simple, that some people were never meant to be in love. That some people were meant to spend their lives alone, not knowing what any of that stuff feels like.
Maybe some of us just aren’t that lucky, and never will be that lucky, to meet the people who makes us complete.
Maybe those people don’t even exist.

I always took it for granted when I was younger that I would grow up and fall in love with someone who could love me back. I just assumed it was going to happen.

But what if it never does?

I’m nineteen years old, still young, still vaguely hopeful.
But fact is, in nineteen years I’ve never had the faintest notion of what it is to be actually wanted.

And yes, it sucks.

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