So here we. Drinking on a Saturday night. Roommates gone, doing their own thing. Which is fine, I guess? I don’t really know. I mean, of course it is. They can do whatever the fuck they want. They’re adults. I already kind of suspected it, but I know for certain now, that I am not nearly as close to these roommates as I was to my old ones. And honestly, I wasn’t even that close to all of them. It was just the one. But you already know that. But these ones, they are truly fantastic, don’t get me wrong. But we’re just not that close. And god, fuck.

It’s that time of year again, it took a little longer to show up this time around. But it is here. Loneliness. It’s spiking. And boy oh boy, it is rough. Yes, there is a dog and cat. But that only does so much. I mean, they’re not mine so like you know how that goes. They’ll hang out with you for a bit, and that’s great. But at the end of the day, they’re beholden to their owner. And that’s fine.

But anyway, back to the story at hand. Roommates. They go and do stuff, which obviously they can go do. I’m not one to intentionally third wheel myself. That kind of just happens sometimes, and man, is that the best thing in the world. But to my point, they’ll go and get dinner and the likes, but they do it with another friend. And I, I don’t know. It stings a little.

Am I not good enough?

Fuck, and there we are. The eternal question of self-doubt. The one that is always asked. But never answered, but not for lack of trying. I just don’t know. Like, I think I am? But what do I know? Am I even the one to answer that? This is the question that I always struggle with. My biggest fear. That no matter what, I’m not good enough. And I… I don’t think I’ll ever have a suitable answer.

I should go, I’ll catch ya on the flip side. Probably.

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