Tonight Is All There Is (The Maine).

Far more desperate than you think.

    Staring at the darkness got a little bit harder every day. Especially when it became the only thing to see in everything that could be seen. You would have thought that your eyes would get used to not being able to make out anything, but they didn't. They kept on searching for something -anything- that could bring a little bit of light in the shadows. Although they rarely found it.

    Everything I laid my eyes on lately seemed dark. Pointless. I felt alone and useless, again. It wasn't surprising, and I couldn't understand how I didn't see it coming, even if it didn't make it less wrong.

    I had lost the motivation to do anything. I didn't feel like seeing anybody, going for drinks, for walks or playing music. Even watching a movie felt too hard. I knew some people would have said that this loss of interest was symptomatic of a depression, and perhaps was I depressive, but admitting it to myself felt way out of reach.

    I knew I was overreacting. One action, one set of words, couldn't reasonably have that effect on someone. It was just that a lot of things made me reconsider my life, and this one was the final straw.

    Life had no meaning, no purpose and nothing was important except for what you convinced yourself was. Unfortunately, I had told myself too many times that the only thing human beings needed was interaction, contact. Therefore I hung on this for as long as I could before it became too much and I became too tired of trying.

    When the realisation of the meaninglessness of life came to people, they reacted differently. Some had existential crises and decided they should live every day as if it was the last. Some fell into a depression. And finally, some accepted it and kept on living as if it wasn't revolting. I liked to think I was part of the last category, even if I sometimes broke. It was human, after all.

    I hated every single mouthful of alcohol I drank. I knew how weak it made me to turn to that to bear the burden my life had become. Yet, I couldn't stop because -for now-something still whispered to me that I shouldn't give up on life.

    Something else that I hated was how badly my mind wanted company; to the point of going out and hooking up with random girls twice a week. I only went to a party for that, and stayed there about one hour before coming home again and feeling empty. Not that I felt filled of anything when I was with a girl.

    My friends were past the point of worrying anymore, which was understandable considering the amount of times I had pushed them away. I even came to wonder if I still had any friends because I sure felt more alone than I had ever had. It was eating me alive.

    Lately I picked up the habit of becoming obsessed with a notion and seeing it everywhere. The first one was rejection. I saw it in each thing I did, in everything I saw. Then came difference. The last one was attachment. It hurt whenever I saw two people together, reminding me that I was alone and most likely will always be. It didn't make it easier when in movies, they showed the need to have someone with you and what it brought you : happiness, support...comfort. It angered me to the point of trembling and wanting to hit something.

    I came to the conclusion that something must have changed me, that I couldn't have been that impulsive and miserable all my life. It almost made me want to cry when I tried to think and remember what it could have been because then, I could see everyone leaving me again while I had no answer. Sometimes it appeared to me that this was deserved, that my life was meant to be a living hell. And usually that was when the drinking and dark thoughts began.

    Weakness was all that I could think about when I caught myself begging for comfort. Why would I need that when nothing dangerous happened in my life? Still, it was there, like a black hole sucking up every other aspect of my life.