Book of Cosmos

I am loveless. I move too much. I want something real but I flitter place to place due to school and varied interests. And when I think I may have something, it turns out they just want sex and I no longer want anything to do with them. And when it has the potential to be good—to be a promising and real relationship—the universe changes and that is no longer possible. If it is possible for me to have someone, I would never know.

Maybe that is why I am cold. Too cold to be in love, too cool to be bothered. As I grow more loveless, I grow more frigid.

But it is a defense, I know. Fear of aloneness makes people try to complete themselves without any other. And so since I have no other, I strive to fix myself even though I'm not broken. To love myself as if I were somebody else loving me when I cannot do that because I cannot be somebody else.

I try to be unlimited and have all the answers. I try to make it so that I can end up alive in the end. I try to create happiness with a magic wand and it never works. It always blows up..

And so I sit alone and loveless, people watching me and seeing somebody who is doing something great for the community, for the needy and other people. They see somebody full of love.

But I am full of nothing.