Misery loves company.

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Nothing is stronger than a martini and a good story. When at a bar you are often surrounded by many individuals drinking the night away with a couple friends, but on the odd occasion you might find someone on their own. There are really only a few reasons that someone could be alone at a bar: a) raging alcoholic b) stood up for a date or c) bothered by an event in their life.

Maybe it is the strong alcohol content, but there is something quite relaxing about being alone while in a crowded bar. Life is in a continual full swing around you, yet you are able to stay motionless and left to your thoughts.

I have found myself with a new craving…I have been left craving someone in my life that I could discuss practically anything with. I miss the perk of having someone continuously there to text or talk and someone that truly cares about all you have to say. Of course there are always people in your life willing to talk, but I just miss having that one person who you can count on to hold you when you are down. It is a big task to have someone waiting upon you for I understand how unreasonable that would be, I just would like to know that I can have someone there for me at any time.

One martini in and I am already delving deeper into the catacombs of my mind. Guided by a small torchlight I seem to be taking a trip down memory lane by reminiscing on recent life events. Lost loves, hidden dreams, and broken promises: it just seems as if misery is handholding me to my death bed.

With the fear of seeming overly morbid, I cannot dwell on such sadnesses anymore. When stuck on the topic of sadness for so long, you seem to forget the happiness that now seems so far away. For someone who writes all about love and loss, I am frankly quite tired of hearing about it. I am surrounded by happy couples with their happy relationships, and yet I am left with Pizza Pops and Netflix. While writing, I find it incredibly difficult to mask my bitterness. In all honesty, I have recently found it quite difficult to resist the urge to throw my shoe at happy couples on the street. No one needs to see your nasty ass PDA…especially a sexually frustrated and morbidly alone young man.

I said that my goal this summer would be to find myself…To find my purpose; but I am not sure that is what I want anymore. Sitting at a crowded bar, I order another drink. Misery loves company, so end the melancholy blues and search for a release.

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