Why am I crying my eyes out right now? Because I'm not like them? What am I supposed to be? Something better than what I am, to be sure. "The Human Third Wheel." That's me. No matter what I do, I end up the awkward extra person in the group. Even today, with a group of four people, I was clearly the one no one really cared about. The one no one cared whether or not he existed. Unwanted and unloved, I couldn't help but retreat inwards, away from the voices talking around me.
Is it wrong to be hurt? They were trying to be nice, to be inclusive. But it was just so clear who each person had come out to see, and not one of them was me. I didn't know someone could feel so isolated even when surrounded by people, in the bustling epicentre of a major city, but there I was. A pathetic piece of shit.
So I empty my eyes sitting in the car in the driveway, wondering why I even bother. The same thing happens every time. Now it's almost 3 a.m. I should go inside. Tears or no, life goes on. No time to waste on pathetic little me.
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