Ejected, Rejected. I’ve nowhere to turn. I alarm my friends and family, yell out for help, cry wolf again. Who wants me dead if not those in my own head (or my own family)? Who would dance on my grave? A lot of people, probably.
There’s my brother’s girlfriend who hates all of creation, I think. We’ve never gotten along. My unhinged brother played a large part in my going MISSING, as I learn now following my mother’s death. Then there’s the ex-boyfriend, whom they directed the police toward. As far as I know, he is gone now, but I am confident he would do a little jig. There’s this guy I dated in high school, C., who raised his ire after I stuck my foot in my mouth and laughed when I should have cried. I’ve done that often. My sense of humor doesn’t serve me. He went on a SpaceFace tirade back in the day and clearly directed five posts to my demise. Then there’s my first boyfriend, whom I see now as a kind of a creep. He would probably be happy to know I am dead. Who else? There’s this guy from jr. high who has managed to work his way into every nook and cranny in my life, but he is far away now, so I am not so worried about my safety, but man is he invasive and he just won’t move on.
All my ex-boyfriends… probably. Let’s not cherry-pick the few evil ones.
My life is so weird, on top of having mental illness problems, I also seem to have a lot of problems with stalkers. I recalled this guy at work who was introduced to me by a good friend and co-worker, Gary. Oddly, I had met Christian before, from work, too. But that isn’t all. He managed to pop into my life several times over. I remember this guy because I found him to be very cute, but definitely beyond my pay grade. Like Gary, I ran into him in other states as well. Obviously, we ran in the same circles, but these seemingly chance encounters now have me wondering if he wouldn’t be relieved if I just left the planet with all my awkwardness, and creepiness, too.
I don’t know. I don’t feel compelled to live a longer, more healthier life to ensure they get no satisfaction from the notification when I kick the bucket. I always wonder who would miss me? I think of my friends now and the relationships I’ve formed in response to some of these life events. I’ve reconnected, forged new paths, but now I always wonder about the new guy I meet. Who the hell is sane anyway? Seems we all have problems, don’t we? I can only hope that if there is anyone who would seek pleasure from my misery simply have bigger fish to fry.
Bugbear and Caw 