Most of the people I know who live with serious mental illnesses are alone. Forever. Few of them are ever married. Most of them never are. Most of them have few long-term relationships. I am just one of those people.
I have never had the true love I wanted all my life that would last and be mutual and be meaningful and result in lifelong commitment, and I never will have it. This has really hit me tonight, as I sit here thinking about the fact that I am going to be alone forever. I have been lying in my bed crying thinking about the fact this guy I fell in love with who lives in New Zealand is somebody I'll probably never even meet, and even if I did meet him, it wouldn't matter, because we're never going to even live on the same continent, and even if we were, that wouldn't matter, because he still spends most nights sleeping at his ex-girlfriend's house since they have a child together who has special needs, and I tried to understand that, I really did, I thought I could understand it. But I can't understand it. How can somebody be telling me that they don't love their ex-girlfriend anymore, yet spend every day and night at her house? With her? And going places with her?
Yeah, I don't understand that. And it doesn't even matter, because this whole thing, this has been destined to make me miserable from the beginning. And I knew that. I knew that if I let myself fall in love with this person, which is what I did, then I would have my heart broken, and I would regret it, and it would never work out, and it would never be whatever I wanted it to become. And I was right. Because it's never going to be whatever I wanted it to become. I don't even think he even cares.
My whole life is so entirely fucking pointless. I have spent my whole entire life alone. What is the point? The years I lived with my ex-boyfriend Jim do not count because they were miserable years that I wasted trying to be the perfect girlfriend to an asshole who never really loved me. Nobody has ever really loved me, actually. Not in a romantic fashion. People used to be attracted me. They would want to go out with me. But they never loved me.
And the ones they said they did turned out to be lying.
So that is life. I am destined to be alone forever, and I guess I've always known this was the case, but wished it was not the case at the same time.
Alas, life is not really like the movies.
When you actually have Schizoaffective Disorder, you actually don't find a lot of romance. I thought I had found the one person who could really understand me, who I could really relate to, who might even be my soulmate, and then I sat here tonight and thought about how he was off spending time with his ex girlfriend on the other side of the world, and I was sitting in my apartment in Florida feeling lonely. And I realize what a total idiot I am.
All we are is all alone.