A life less loved…

… is a life struggling to find purpose. My friends tell me that I spend too much time and invest too much emotion examining my lack in this department, but I can’t help but feel that missing this one element of our human existence is really starting to dehumanize me. I find myself caring less and less about things that I used to be very passionate about. For example, the destruction of the environment, a cause that I’ve always felt most deeply about, becomes less and less important to me as I realize that the chances of me being able to say to my grandchildren ‘I helped mend our ways’ are slim because I don’t foresee children, let alone grandchildren in my future.
Perhaps it’s a hangover from the christmas season, but mainly it’s the build up into the valentine’s day fever pitch. Yet another whiny voice on the internet, complaining about the commercialized nature of a manufactured greeting card day, I know. I’m pretty sure the Internet doesn’t need another lonely guy poring his emo soul out onto a traffic-less blog, but damnit I really don’t care anymore. In my life, I have never had a love-filled valentine’s day. Every single year, I’m reminded again of my loneliness. I don’t know what it is about me that women find so undesirable, but it’s wearing me down. I really don’t know how much more of this I can take.
I see my friends and family, happy with their loved ones, making lives together and I look at my life, and weep inside. I feel like Adam Sandler in Punch-Drunk Love, raging about how he has so much love to give. I’ve held a flame in my heart for so long now, and to find it unrequited was a blow of the worst kind. To get rejected from a stranger, from someone you met in a bar, or a library, or a cafe is nothing. You can shrug it off, they don’t know you. To get rejected from one whom you’ve known for years, who can’t see you as you see her, well it’s soul shattering.
I try to deal with it but I can’t. I keep coming back to the passion, the love, the emotion I felt that was just wasted. Completely wasted, and I don’t think love in an unlimited resource. I think we only have so much to give without being replenished by someone else, and I haven’t ever been replenished. I’ve never been in a relationship where they felt about me the way I felt about them, and once again I keep coming back to the question, what the hell is wrong with me? What makes me so unsuitable for any type of relationship?
I know I’m not perfect, but I’m not a bad catch. My friends tell me I’m smart, I have a good job, and I’m easy to get along with. I’m well traveled, funny and not incredibly ugly. Sure I could lose a couple pounds and do a little more with my life, but worse people than I have found true happiness in the arms of another, so why haven’t I?
I think I’m done now. I don’t feel any better, in fact I’ll probably feel worse later on but at least I’ve written something, as incoherent and rambling as it is. I said earlier my friends tell me that I put too much emphasis on love, but it’s easy for them to say this. They’re the best possible people in the world, but they can’t see the world the way I perceive it, they haven’t lived a life less loved…