I am on my flight to Denver and I have time to think. I have figured out my purpose. I am the person everyone can depend on. The one that will always be there. The one that will drop whatever I am doing to help someone out.
That is my reason for being.
On the other hand, I will always be alone. I will always be a party of one. I will always leave the emergency contact line on a form blank. I will have to learn to live life solo.
The other part of my purpose is to always have a smile on my face. To make people laugh. To make them thankful they are not in my shoes. To always pretend that all is okay.
Fake it till I make. Or at least until they believe.
It really sucks. It is a miserable existence. I feel worthless.
Why I still have hope is beyond me. For some unknown reason I cannot shake it. Something happens and I get a little hopeful that things will get better. I ridiculously get my hopes up. It is a cruel game I play with myself and one I can never win.
I try to fill my life with friends, family, and new experiences. But at the end of the day people have their lives and I am just not meant to be part of it. And when someone wants to include me I am surprised and sometimes suspicious. Why do they want to include me their life? Is it pity or do they really want to?
I literally just landed in Denver. Everyone picks up their phones and contacts friends and/or family. I have no one. I write my sad story on my phone. I laugh when say “why didn’t you call me?”. Easy! You have a life that does not include me. You have a family to tend to. You have friends that are more important.
I am the lonely court jester waiting in the corner until I am needed.
Always hoping for a different ending.
