After a year and a half of living alone, I am ready to admit that it does in fact get lonely.
I am not going to lie, I miss the days when I was struggling to sleep and to wake up because I was grieving my first breakup. My friends were there for me at least and I had something going on for me. Now, it’s the same monotony. I wake up. I work. I eat (if I don’t forget it). Then back to sleep.
I can’t even treat myself to an ice cream anymore because I let my freelance work go. I don’t have extra money. It’s so lonely out here. Fuck.
Thank God for BFE ASMRs1 who put me to sleep at a sensible hour despite my raging anxiety. It kinda feels pathetic doing this at 26 years old, but it’s soothing and the exact comfort I need. It does have the effect of me wanting to fall in love again, but I don’t wanna whore myself out and objectify myself just to meet someone. I don’t know.
My birthchart says my next successful relationship will be when I’m 30. That’s four more years. Let’s see if I can hold up to that age.