Love "Guilt"

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"I imagine there are many who cannot or find it very difficult to identify with me. Have you been wondering how I think? Here are all of the answers you could ever want.

If it had not been for the loneliness I feel, which motivates me to create thought, and for the fear of obscurity that I have, which motivates me to take action on that thought, I would never have created volumes upon volumes of work for the people of the world who take interest in my pursuits to multiply. I would never had led such a thoughtful life, and now only at the age of seventeen, had I not faced such adversity and introversion.

I am a very different man than most my age. As a result of being at a loss for people to interact with, I have had to dialogue with myself in my mind; day in and day out, to come to the various conclusions I have come to in economics, politics and psychology. I have come to bear the worst of human fears; an epoch of loneliness, my life has been. In my time spent in my own mind, I have learned much about myself.

I take pleasure in knowing that my deprivation of socialization for large and lengthy periods of my life has caused me to place great significance in any person who could come to know me, spend time with me and value me. However, the value that I place in people is often too great. I am often plagued by the loss of what few friends I've gained over the years and even new ones whose presence I rely on for my own social well-being. I become enamored with a specific individual and need their presence; their thoughts; their attention and their love. My understandable and reasonable want for any kind of attention boils over into becoming an annoyance, and an oddity to the people I need.

It started with Shawna Norton. For nearly six years, every day, she would almost encompass the entirety of my thoughts. Our encounters were short-lived; in the hallway or in band. I recall one day in seventh grade she'd asked me "How was band, Robbie?"; "Good", I answered. "Good"; that was all I could say. I never was one known for talking, not coherently of course. I was either over-attentive or not attentive enough back then... after nearly six years, Shawna would begin to find me creepy. After the ninth grade, my feelings for her waned. Yet, if only she would come back to me; be my friend, like the good old days in fourth grade; when none of us had any aims beyond the dismissal bell.




Then, there were a few more people whom I would come to be, for lack of a more accurate term, obsessed, with. And with each passionate love I held for the five individuals I had ever really loved, I held out some sort of hope that they would have the same, stifling, relentless embrace as I. I did not understand their minds; the minds of others.

The incalculable value I place upon people, I think, is what may one day drive me to madness. Until a few days ago, I held an inexorable feeling of love and compassion for a young woman who'd spent much time with me in this year, who I'd met at the end of last year. Her personality seemed so similar to mine, and her connection with animals largely attracted me. And then there was her aesthetics. Her face and her eyes; the stereotypical cliches that need not be mentioned. I can only surmise that the incalculable value I place in people, which I placed also in her, is compensation for the affection and socialization I did not receive from others for much of my life. I had only, a few days ago, come to meet the, for me, tragic end to my blooming love. Once again, someone whom I'd relied on, has moved on. Once again, I am alone.

I was recently told by a friend not to hold my heart to one person; there are other people, of course; I know this fact. However, there is only one of each person. Someone may dress, think, look and act exactly the same as someone else, they may even be cloned from them; but in truth, there is only one of that person. My over-compensatory feelings for people who may not value me as much as I value them may one day be my undoing. I have chosen not to dwell on these negative feelings any longer, as they will surely become a detriment to my health. But do know, that these people for whom I feel immeasurable love, I would die to protect, and live in solitude to be theirs. But choosing to live in solitude if my love is unrequited does not bring forth desirable results. It does not bring forth any results.

















Fortunately, I have had a high tolerance for solitude. However, it took me a very long time to realize something. The people whom I value, do not value me as I value them. And so, in the face of this revelation as I've known it for many years, I have become a more and more introverted individual. I have turned to my keyboard, as many a man past have turned to their typewriters; their parchment and quill-pen, and I wrote. I wrote of politics, of economics and of psychology. I have devoted myself to studying the minds of others; to gain an understanding of that which I so desperately lacked in my youth. "I am a man who stands above other men"; that notion has filled my head, driven me, been my burning desire. I have realized that all men are not created equal. There are those who are more capable than others at doing physical activities, something at which I'm not very good. There are some who are more capable than others at thinking, something at which I excel. In certain areas of mathematics and economics, I thrive. In understanding human psychology too, I'd like to think that I excel. I also excel at writing, I have been told. Twice falsely accused of plagiarism in grade-school and suspected of it in high-school, I have learned the stigma which my abilities, and the general abilities the select few in a population of normalcy hold. I cannot use my normal vocabulary in speech because it offends other people; makes them feel as if I'm attempting to act superior.

Even when I put my best manners forward, I am unable to garner a position of attractiveness in the world. To some, I am caring and knowledgeable. To others, I am an unsolvable puzzle; and to others, I am merely a robot incapable of normality."


A month old excerpt from my autobiography. My original train of thought was, when I was in love with Laurel, "I won't have a relationship with more than one person in life so they remain special because of their uniqueness to me." then it became "I won't have a relationship in my life with anyone but Laurel to keep her uniqueness special to me." I have failed in that regard as we're not really friends anymore and I have not seen or heard from her in months. However, even if I were in a relationship with someone else; which I technically am over the internet currently, I feel guilty. I don't feel fulfilled. I feel awful. There's not another Laurel that's the same as this Laurel. No one can replace her. And I can't "Move on", Why? Because I think it would be hypocritical of me to and unfair to her after I've made up in my mind that I wouldn't have a relationship with anybody else besides her to keep her uniqueness special to me.

I'm sorry if I spell anything wrong or don't make some sense; I typed this around 140 words per minute. I type fast when I'm depressed.

Needless to say this makes me very very sad and monumentally depressed. I have been depressed about three different people in total for about a year virtually consecutively.