obsolete

Do you ever feel heartbreakingly alone, even when you’re in the midst of people? I’ve been fighting this for days—feeling obsolete, unneeded, superfluous.

Today I found out someone I’d considered a great friend had tremendous changes going on in his life for months, never breathing a word. I feel stupid for selfishly rambling on all that time when his stuff was so much more monumental. It can never go back to what it was. He’s in such a different, better, happier place—turns out I was just filler until something better came along.

Another friend dumped me recently. Someone I trusted wholeheartedly. This time too, I was a place-holder until a more interesting option turned up. And it did.

I feel marginalized, insignificant. Unimportant.

Invisible.

I don’t know where I fit in anymore. The truth is I never fit in anywhere, never really. I skirt the edges, dip my toe in, take on roles I think I can handle and then quickly move on to the next thing.

I’m the planner, the doer, the organizer. I make things happen. I bring people together. But no one does it in return.

I sent out mother’s day cards and heard back from one person out of eighty or so. I pitched a film idea to a really interested company who sought me out only to hear nothing. I put my thoughts, ideas, feelings out there every single day and they're not even a ripple in a vast ocean

I don’t have it in me to start over again. To start a new project knowing how hard it will be to sell it. To have agents politely say no. Publishers shake their heads. To plan time with friends knowing it’s all one-sided.

This bleakness is stark. These days are empty.