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.