Despair

The truth is, the only thing that anyone has in this world is each other. When you leave, you don't take your car, your house, or any of your possessions with you. Your mark is made in the form of the effect that you have had on others. You leave a legacy, whether small or large, evil or good, etc. It's a hard feeling thinking that you'll be alone. Everyone likes to think that they're happy in their own conscience, but at the end of the day, there's only so much that you can do alone. Trust me, I've probably done everything there is do to by yourself (ha). You start to worry, you start to think that it's all there is to life. You've done everything, now you've got x amount of time left, and for what? To make matters worse, someone will always come along and give you false hope. They'll come in the form of that short brown haired girl you meet right before high school who is way out of your league, but you attach yourself to her because for some reason she fills the void of being alone that was never filled before. She was someone who CARED. Nobody else cares about you, cares how you spend your time or where you're going in life. But she wanted to talk, 9-10pm every night before your parents took your phone away. You felt important. Even if the rest of the world doesn't give a shit about you, she makes you feel like you actually matter. Soon enough, you're chasing this feeling like a heroin addict in-the-making. Your "alone time" from before turns into time spent waiting until she texts you back, calls you back, pokes you back, ANYTHING to have SOME recognition in the world. You rely on her for happiness, there's nothing in your world that can sate your hunger for mere acknowledgement, and she becomes everything.

Ah, but she is broken too. To make matters worse, broken people fix themselves by breaking others. You become the victim of this. To her, you're just that guy she calls to flirt with for fun at night. You're a fleeting thought. You're NOTHING in comparison to the way that she makes you feel. Slowly but surely, you start to realize this. It scares you to death, you don't care about the world without her. Nobody else cared before, she's the only one. When she's gone, then what? What's the point? It's not necessarily that she is the one who makes life worth living, but when she's gone you go back to being on your own. Everything that she gave you before, the feeling of importance, of acceptance, is stripped away like it never mattered in the first place, because guess what? IT DIDN'T. She knows you have nobody else, and that gives her the luxury of choice. At the end of the day, I'm always there. So why not go experiment? It's not like she has to do anything in order to keep you around, you're just along for her ride. But you start to realize that she could be gone at any second. You can't sleep at night, you wake up for school, try to get through your day without strangling anyone, and go home to pass the time in your room alone. You fear the void that will once again be in your life, only worse this time in comparison to the fulfillment that previously kept this void at bay. You start imagining yourself at 65, still alone and with nothing to live for. You could never convince yourself to end your life; that just doesn't make any logical sense. But at the same time, it's not as if there's anything keeping you going. Nobody cares about you, or what you're doing or where you're going. Everyone is on their deathbed to a greater or lesser extent, and in your dreams you're on your deathbed reflecting on your meaningless, fruitless, pointless life that might as well not have even been lived. You're a waste of space, of time. All you needed was that one person, but she's gone and has been for 50 years and there has never been anything you can do but watch. Because the only thing people have in this world is each other, and the only thing that you had was her. Now you don't have her. Now you have NOTHING.