My 24th birthday is coming up soon.

My birthday always depresses me. The fact that I'm getting older and closer to death is bad enough, but I'm always reminded that another year has gone by and I'm still as lonely and unhappy as ever. Birthdays should feel like a fresh start, with the feeling that the next year of life holds some exciting unknowns. I haven't been excited at the prospect of a new year for a while because nothing ever changes for me. The future isn't something I look forward to because I know there's nothing there for me. Years and years of nothing but the same old story has taught me not to hope for anything more than what I already have, which is nothing.

There won't be a boyfriend or any love in the future. There never is, so I've given up on the hope that there might be one day. When the years keep ticking by, you realize "one day" isn't going to happen. According to my mom, I would have to lose 50 pounds first before any guy would be interested in me. She says I have to make myself more "marketable". That doesn't make me feel very good because I should hope to find someone who loves me for me, despite my size 14. Apparently, that's "not how it works", so oh well. There has to be something wrong with me anyway because even the guys who do like bigger girls still don't want to date me. Sex, fine. Dating, no. I'm just not wanted or lovable.

So, happy birthday to me. I already know what the year of 24 will hold for me, and it's not anything to be excited or happy about. It's just more of the same loneliness and unhappiness of the years before.

11:35 p.m. - Saturday, Oct. 27, 2012


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