They say delusions of grandeur and exaggerated self worth are symptomatic of borderline.

Here again I feel the opposite. It could be caving to self pity. But I think I truly am too different and too difficult to love. I don’t think I am unworthy of love. I think that the common man is simply not up to the task. I have always been able to see myself the way others do. The reason I don’t get invited to parties or girls trips, the reason men never want me as their girlfriend. I’m too bright, too loud, too confident, too pretty, too self aware, too easy to capture attention. So I’m eliminated from inclusion by anyone that doesn’t want the spotlight stolen, anyone insecure in any of these areas. They don’t want me around.

To men I’m so easy to sleep with. But they lose interest as quickly as I do. Sometimes cause they’re scared. How good it felt, how intimidating the depths of my feelings. I would love to give all my love to someone. If only someone were to want it.

I have only ever a handful of friends at a time. And inevitably I outgrow them. I can feel it happening again. I am the mirror that shows you the truth and holds you accountable. You can’t lie to me. Many friends appreciate that. Up until the thing they don’t want to see, they’re not ready to take accountability for is reflected back. Then they fade out of my life.

It is a lonesome existence. Knowing that I am a person that comes into people’s lives to make an impression, to help grow, to educate, to helping people become better versions of themselves, but never to stay.

Moving back to the city was intentional as I am not the only one carrying out a solitary existence here. I am among many living similar lives. I prefer it here.

But I crave companionship and I know not where to get it.

I would take an offer to be an aunt in a family. To be any part of a family would be enough.

But again all these things.

No man has ever valued me till after I was gone. Then realizing the chance they missed.

Perhaps you’ll be the same.

But more than likely you’re not aware.

I am convinced of my exceptional self worth and that it hinders anyone from wanting to be with me.

I suppose that’s sort of borderline.

This season’s holiday blues have kicked in again. The steady lows of financial struggle. The anxiety of the impending term. The uncertainty of what comes next. What comes after Rome falls? Will it fall in time? Before mother earth wipes us out? Who knows.

At any rate.

This holiday season sucks.