I feel so alone.
Three years since my last relationship ended. Three years since I watched my best friend shoot himself. Two and a half years since I last had sex. Two years since I was spurned by a redhead I loved. One year since my last date, and believe me that didn't go well. It's enough to make a man consider suicide. I haven't given it serious consideration, but the thought's crossed my mind.
After my friend shot himself, I wallowed about in misery for several months, relying on the redhead for emotional support. I loved her so much, but she refused to love me. I forget exactly what was said in the exchange that followed, but it was something to the effect of telling her to go feck herself. She claimed I was insane. Maybe I am. We haven't spoken since. It's one of the few things that still makes me cry if I think about it long enough.
Following that lovely shitstorm, I set about finding a mate. Long story short: Lots of dates, all ending in dismal failure. None of them were redheads, which might account for my lack of enthusiasm in dating. I had a word for non-redhead women I dated and/or fecked. "Practice."
I honestly don't think I'll ever be happy without a redhead. That severely limits my dating pool, but feck. dating isn't working out so well anyway.
Christ I need to get out more.
