The extreme cold of loneliness

I am the loneliest person I know. I've always known this to a degree, but it only ever really hits me late at night. It's my fault, my doing, but it doesn't change the fact it's true. I am a gimmick, a fleeting joke, never taken seriously or loved for who I am. I truthfully can never tell who I am, it's changed so much so fast over the my life that I fear apart from maybe two close friendships I try my best to hold dear there is nothing that really binds me to anything. I'm so lost, wandering, clueless and feel so cold all the time. When the laughs stop and the energy dies and I go home, and I put my phone down, all that remains is me and my mostly empty room.

It's my fault, really. I've pushed away dozens in my efforts to "have space" or simply because I wasn't "feeling" our relationship one day. Frankly, I have and always have had absurdly high expectations for what friendship is. The few that I do hang on to I do so only because of how intensely I romanticize those people. Their lives as a process are ongoing works of art, they themselves are the only people who seem truly complex to me. And even they have lives outside of me, even they manage to find themselves, go through the struggle of being yourself in a world hostile to that.

And yet even now when I surely want to go through that struggle, there's nothing there. I exist in an endless search for a person who gets it all and wants to be there for me and I want to be there for them. But life doesn't work that way, and so I'll continue chasing the mirage to the day I die.