it's after four o'clock in the morning and i just got home. i am sitting on my bed, wreaking of the fucking union pool bonfire with gatsby on my lap trying to smush face. i am a little sad, and trying not to be. i am so tired of being considered unilaterly unattractive by an entire bar full of guys. what is it? i used to be hit on. now it's just the sad, desperate guys. and even when i do talk to guys, because i've started the conversation, they leave without ever considering to ask for my phone number. so i'm telling myself they must have girlfriends or something. anything to make myself feel better for being unwanted by them. it's like, i don't know. it's scary, that's what it is. what if this really is the rest of my life. what if i am always alone, from now on? it would take years to accept that fact. but you know, tonight, i'm thinking it might be easier. to just give up. but then i think, you know i'm 22. not even 23. why would i be talking about giving up? well, because i've been dating for 9 years and have had very limited success and i'm a bit tired of banging my head against the wall.

i dunno, night like tonight do not make the urge to talk to the exes any less. maybe i can get away with just looking at their pictures and trying to remember what it felt like to be loved, or you know, at least desired.

okay, right now i refuse to start talking about how sometimes i wonder if any of them ever wanted me at all.

ugh, goodnight.