like you and i

I seem to be an easy person to blow off.
I really don't understand why that is, as I'm an incredibly difficult person to ignore.
I've come to realize that Jack isn't worth my time. There's no point in fighting to be someone's friend when they are constantly making it crystal clear that they don't give a shit. I let my optimism get the best of me and allowed myself to read between lines that didn't exist-- a mistake I will not be repeating any time soon.
I am going to be alone for the rest of my life. Truly alone. I don't mean that I'll be deprived of company-- I have company-- but at the end of the night I am the only one who navigates the queer labyrinth of my mind, the twisting and winding corridors of my thoughts. I have yet to meet another who can even see the map, let alone read it. I thought Jack would at least know which drawer to look in to find that map, but he doesn't even care to step through the doorway of the room. Jude has learned to realize that he will never understand; I'm thankful for that, I really am, and he's able to observe me in a way that allows him to peek into my sphere, but he'll never inhabit my world. It's like we're able to write letters back and forth, and I've been a tourist in his town a time or two, but his passport won't let him come to my city.

Ooh la la, what's with all these geographical metaphors tonight?

For the first time in a long time, I'm actually feeling something. It's a mix between deep seated misery and a diluted anger at the injustice.
It hurts.