It's actually quite easy to pretend to be happy. I know that I am very angry inside, i feel as if some terrible injustice has been committed, which sounds i suppose melodramatic and even childish, but it's something that it is very hard to give a sense of scale to.
I'm having therapy, which i think i'm going to tey to use to focus on that, to diminish the anger and frustration so that i don't take it out on anyone.
She's happy, i think - she simply doesn't feel the same way i do about intimacy - i'd love to know why or how, but of course i never shall.
I'm going to concentrate on ways of staying. Yes, sometimes i worry about "wasting" something, but in all honesty i am not sure what. There are people who spend their whole lifes alone, or significant parts of it, some through choice, some through circumstances, widows, widowers, people who just haven't found the right person, or don't want to, or for whom there is no right person, and they cope, sometimes they are fulfilled and happy people even.
And when i get to whatever age it is that i get to, and realise that i have to, in some way, take stock, what will i be saying i missed out on? Does it really matter? I don't think so. I think i want and expect too much.
I don't think i have a confidence issue - i will admit that i have a very clear and stark idea of who i am, and whether i am interesting, or attractive, or someone someone would want to spend time with, but i have that idea because i am living with the consequences of those failings in myself, i have proof if you like.
I will, sometimes, lapse, and want to shout and screm, and sometimes, if i may, i will do that here.