The Struggle Bus: My Journey with Friendship (and a million unanswered questions)

Hey everyone. Buckle up, because today's post is a deep dive into something that's been gnawing at me for a while now: friendship, or rather, the lack of a real, solid friendship in my life. Ugh, where do I even start? Friendship. It feels like a foreign language I can't seem to grasp, a secret handshake everyone else knows except me. 21 years old, and I haven't found that "ride or die" friend everyone seems to brag about. It's like I'm perpetually stuck on an island, surrounded by water but desperately thirsty for real connection.

I try everything, I swear I do. For years, I was a shapeshifter, morphing into whatever people wanted. People-pleasing chameleon, that was me. Didn't work. The tide just washed them away anyway. So, I ripped off the mask, decided to be the real me, the one with maybe-a-too-loud laugh and a heart that wears its emotions on its sleeve. Guess what? "Dude, you're always so down," they'd say. "It brings the whole mood down." They abandoned me like a beached jellyfish, left to shrivel in the harsh sun.

The worst part? Finally building the sandcastle of a friendship, only to watch the waves of indifference crash it down. The same hollow excuse every time – "No way, it's not you! Just swamped!" Swamped with what? Is it too much to ask for a little honesty, a "Hey, listen, things have been crazy, but you matter to me"? It feels like a life raft tossed out just to keep me from drowning in disappointment.

This cycle suffocates me, a never-ending loop of failed connections. I try to build something, it crumbles faster than a sandcastle in a hurricane, and I'm left sifting through the damp remains, the question a constant echo in the emptiness: am I the problem? Am I inherently unlikable?

The doubts creep in like crabs, pinching at my self-worth. Am I too boring? Just...forgettable? Maybe that's why I'm always the "last resort" friend. Never the first thought for weekend adventures, only remembered when someone needs a shoulder to cry on or a helping hand. Is that even friendship? It feels more like a flickering emergency flare, only used in moments of crisis.

And the self-blame, it's a relentless undertow, pulling me deeper into the loneliness. "There must be something wrong with me. That's why everyone leaves." The question has become an anchor, dragging me down, a constant reminder of failed connections. I feel like I'll never be able to accept myself on this path, that I'm destined to be perpetually adrift. That I'm just a forgotten buoy, bobbing aimlessly in a vast ocean of people.

Maybe this post is a desperate cry into the void, a message in a bottle with a plea for connection. Maybe it's just me screaming into the silence, hoping for an echo of understanding. Right now, I'm just tired. Exhausted from giving and getting nothing back. Tired of feeling like a ghost on the periphery of my own life.

There's no flicker of hope, no promise of a happy ending. Just this suffocating loneliness, a constant reminder of the connection I crave but seem destined to never find. The question is now etched on my heart. I feel like I'll never be able to accept myself on this take. I feel I'll always blame myself for it now. That I'm just too easily replaceable, that I hold no value to anyone's life...

~The Stressed Potato