Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, or sometimes even how hard I don’t try, I keep finding myself in the same spot in my life.  Stuck in between wanting someone in my life to share it with, and hating the process of finding someone.

The process is tedious, and the older I get the more difficult it is to make real connections with someone new.  I’ve whittled down my friendships to the ones that matter the most, which limits the new people who I can connect with, and if I attempt to meet people through other avenues, I find it frustrating because I think it’s nearly impossible to accurately represent yourself in a short window.

Mostly it’s a tedious and disheartening adventure.  The further down the road I get the more I want to escape from the idea to some remote place where it would be pointless to think about being anything but alone.  Somewhere that the possibility of meeting someone is so limited that I come to terms with watching the years fall away alone.

I seem to keep repeating these mistakes,

As many times, I guess, as learning them takes.

Though I feel I know not to follow that road,

From these tracks, I can’t seem to unload.

I keep going through the same doors,

Crossing over the exact same floors.

What I’ll find there, I already know,

But through a new door, I just don’t go.

Destined to repeat the same old problems,

Though I seek new possibilities for where life stems.

Finding myself wrapped up in the same shit,

No matter what, unable to escape it.

Trapped in this vicious cycle, stuck on repeat.

Someone to guide me out, still trying to meet.