running out the quartz

i've always seen myself as growing old alone.

it's that one truth i've held since childhood. it has survived through the decades unlike plenty of other irrational beliefs that a younger me wouldn't have known better about like how beer tastes disgusting (i've gone through phases of lowkey alcoholism), how i considered girls as the enemy (i now prefer their company over men), and how i'll be rich someday (i've since resigned to the fact that i won't earn a lot in this government career i have). but me growing old alone shouldn't make sense because i've had partners whom we have mutually wanted to grow old with each other at the time we were still together.

but i guess it's really that, i've been a failure a couple of times and my ideal future of being with someone whom i'd prefer to grow old with is becoming highly unlikely. i've pushed myself enough only to be devastatingly disheartened in the end that i've all but given up on the concept of forever with someone.

there'll be always a reason to leave me - i'm not kind enough, i don't earn enough, i'm not strong enough.

perhaps it's easier to grow old alone. it may be scary to not have anyone to take care of you or keep you company, but i'm much more afraid of being a disappointment to others. there's a degree of comfort to knowing that you're wasting away on your terms, knowing that only you can see how much of a failure you are in the end, knowing that no one cares enough to be hurt by your passing.

but as with both pleasure and pain, just like my existence, it's simply fleeting, and nobody should worry about it cause there's nothing the sands of time can't drown into oblivion.