I’m a 39 year old man with no friends. My definition of friend has reduced itself to: someone who invites you to spend time with them. I know there are people who consider themselves my friends, but literally the only time I spend time with people is if I reach out and arrange it. For years I’ve tried making friends from every area of my life, but if I’m doing all the work, it isn’t friendship.
If I died today (and I have no plans on dying anytime soon), only my mom and my son would care that I died. It would just be a minor inconvenience to everyone else who interacts with me.
I’ve been single about 2.5 years. I’ve been on plenty of dates — but no woman wants to be in a relationship with me. Occasionally I can find a woman who is willing to go on a date with me — sometimes they even want to sleep with me — but I can’t find someone who wants more than that. I’m not interested in going on a million dates and sleeping around — I want a partner. But I’m a 39 year old man with a kid & women have nearly unlimited better options and can afford to be as picky as they want. They deserve that agency — it just sucks for me.
I’m the common denominator here, so the problem has to be with me, right? I don’t know what it is. Counseling hasn’t helped. Fake it until you make doesn’t work. I can’t figure it out, and don’t really have what it takes to try anymore. I feel like I’m a great friend, and a great partner. I’ve helped people through depression & suicidal thoughts, I ask about people’s lives and show an interest in what matters to them. I’ll drop what I’m doing to help people when they need it… I don’t know what I could do better, or differently.
The most pathetic part about being a friendless 39 year old isn’t having to write about it as your only outlet, or crying yourself to sleep at night, or just being another depression statistic. The most pathetic part of being a friendless 39 year old is slowly watching yourself become mentally unstable from lack of any social support.
I don’t know what solitary confinement is like, but it feels like I’m in a version of it. I would feel like the man set upon by robbers in Luke 10:30 except being beaten and robbed would be significantly more attention than I’ve received in my 16 years in Cleveland without having to wave my arms about & shout for it.
I’m a bottle of clawed tarantulas.