Dear me...I fucking hate you

I moved to Portland over a year ago. I have made very little friendships since I have been here outside of my work. It is nice knowing work friends and I am thankful I have them because honestly it surprises me sometimes anyone of them even likes me and honestly I am severely skeptical that any really do. Anyway…since I have been here I have been trying to start my life over. I want to escape my past…that horrible 37 year stint of anger and hatred I call Phoenix, Az. I wanted to try and meet someone new and maybe give myself a second chance at a healthy loving relationship. However since I have been in Portland I feel like a fucking three headed alien with fangs dripping acid. I have been on date after date and so many have ended horribly. The one where we were at the movies and the girl excused herself to get popcorn and never came back. The date at the comedy club where after waiting for half an hour for my date to come back I went outside to look for her and found her on the lap of another guy making out…I of course left and decided not to make a scene. The repeated failures of asking girls out and finding out they think of me as a nice guy but no one they would date. How about the time I was at the bar and had my friend chump me out saying I never hit on girls but I go in the bar and tell a girl I like her shoes (I did they were really nice) and she tells me basically “Fuck off jerk”…to my acknowledgement later I realized it may have sounded like a “nice shoes wanna fuck?” line even though that was far from what I said or implied.
After 37 years I had a social network in Phoenix and never realized how important that can be. I left behind the biggest crushes, loves of my life, best friends, family and people that were there for me…and here I am…alone. Torturing myself over people that could care less for me, all because I had to leave behind the memories and streets of pain and regret. The girl who tore my heart from my chest while it was still beating who eventually came here and my pain from that situation not only lingers because of the fear I may run into her and have my stomach hit my mouth and then the floor…but the reminder that I have never had anyone close to me like that for over 9 years now. That every time I try I fail horribly. The fact that the only respect I get is because somehow people fear me or are intimidated by me and honestly fuck that…I hate it. I hate that something about me is scary to people because honestly it scares away women that I am interested in and crushes my heart slowly.
So yeah…I am unhappy. I am unsatisfied with my life and my world and everything about it and joining clubs to meet new people won’t help because I will still be the “scary” guy. This journey has taught me that eventually…being all alone won’t matter too much. Eventually that is right where we are when we die. Eventually even when another’s hand is in ours as we pass it is only the one passing while the other sits there. We are one separate soul…destined to be alone through death and beyond.
So next time you Wikipedia chump…there may be a picture of me there…because even after being played time and time again, I still believe people. I still try to have faith. But honestly…I am a fucking idiot and I am surprised I can breathe without thinking about it.

every day

I wonder if life will just seem shitty...I wonder if leaving this job will make me any happier. I ponder on singing but who would listen? Would I freeze up and lose my voice? Will I give up and lose my everything...even my breath? I contemplate suicide occasionally. I learned years ago how to fashion slipknots very well. I know what ropes will support certain weights and how sturdy a beam should be to hang a human from it because I helped hang hook suspensions. I cross bridges and wonder if I jump will anyone stop me? See me? Even know? Because I walk through endless seas of people and smile and nod to passers by and I am invisible. I talk to girls at the bar and say things that are not inappropriate...I don't use pick up lines...and they treat me like I am an asshole that just shoved his hand up their skirt. I think sometimes I wished I liked men...gay men hit on me alot...but I tried to kiss a man once and I didn't like feeling his hard on against me. I just don't like any dick besides my own...mens bodies are not as beautiful...we don't smell as good...I just cannot do it. But I can tell if a man is pretty or not...you know?
I know I am very unhappy...I love the weather in Portland...I love the environment and the atmosphere. I love the food and the trees and foliage. I miss the women I knew in Phoenix...I miss having a network of hundreds that I could see anytime and everyone knew me. I was not invisible...I was not unwanted. I feel so very alone now...and I sometimes ache for days...sometimes I go numb...sometimes I am angry. Today I realize I have started to develop an eating disorder that I forced myself to develop...I guess it was bound to happen. I really hate myself right now and because of that I deserve everything I get. Change or die trying.