Well Froggy, you're just about the only person who uses this place as a journal to talk about each and every negative aspect in their life. Not judging here, but that would be why the traffic is too slow for you.
I could write something long I guess. I'm not one of those people who get very lonely when they are alone. Loneliness stems from the idea of others, a disparity between them and yourself. I don't usually experience this when alone because for the most part I just float on by and don't have any issues. But recently I went out and "reunited" with a couple of people I knew when going to a convention. That disparity between myself and others, be it strangers, or even those who I have known about and went with, made a loneliness that was pretty hard to ignore. Just as last convention, the Saturday, the longest convention day, I left early without them.
One of three people I was "reunited" with was an ex of mine that I broke up with because I felt that she wasn't emotionally invested in us, which at the time was pretty much the thing I valued more than anything. We didn't really "click" or anything at the convention, the way I am makes that kind of difficult, and we barely were even around each other to begin with. That being said, there were times that we were somewhat affectionate toward each other, and she brought up that her boyfriend broke up with her (not very sure that she was trying to make that aware to me, pointless to ponder though). I don't exactly have those emotions that I had back when I dated her, the only thing that remains is kind of residual stirrings that reside where the previous flame burned.
All that being said, I wonder if it would be a good idea to establish some sort of "relationship". One of the friends I went with, the night he was driving me home on Friday, asked me if I had feelings for her. This wasn't so random because she was being affectionate earlier in the car. After the experience of the first day of the con, I felt that distance between myself and others, it was thrown in my face after a long time of turning my back to it. And when the friends I went with chatted away, I felt they had formed a ring, and that I was outside of it. They weren't putting me there nor did they intend to, but I put myself there by feeling alien and unnecessary for that ring.
It was partly also because much of the discussion: anime, manga, and video games, although all things that I enjoy (in fact, I don't enjoy much else), they were things that they had a much stronger passion for. Not only in history, but in remembrance. Things that oneself finds worth something they tend to remember, even if they don't have a strong memory. Even though I of course like things, I'm a human, some things are bound to interest me, but the difference in this regard between us is that I just had no passion. My existence floating by, reality and things sliding through my finger tips. I didn't grate along reality, but that's because it made little impression. It's like life, as it rubs by, gradually dulls my mind more and more, my memory growing worse and worse. This is particularly bad in terms of trying to not feel lonely among others, because memories, conscious or subconscious, are what make us distinct, and therefore make us like and unlike one another, and allow for connections.
But anyway, my thoughts as of right now are whether or not it'd be smart to pursue connecting with her in these means. I want to have things that I feel that are worth remembering, and maybe I can be more distinct and make connections with others. And maybe I can feel a part of a ring. I just would like a place, somewhere to belong. Of course a part of me knows that if being alone is fine with me, there is no point in destroying myself, but I understand that not only can I get benefits out of changing, but living in this epicurean NEET-like bubble is potentially dangerous for my future. A part of my understands that it might not even work, hell, if I am weaker to change than anticipated, it might make me fold in on myself even more. A part of me is kind of scared of destroying myself. I'm not particularly attached to the way I am after all this time, in fact that in itself would be out of character with the way I am. But I'm afraid I might lose something along the way, on the road to defining myself. But it isn't too frightening. There is something perfect about a blank page that makes it scary for me to ruin, and I've always hated the process of filling a blank page. Sometimes when looking at a page filled, I am very unhappy with it, but it is never because it isn't a blank page, but because it wasn't filled as I wished it would have been. So it is scary, but if I feel that a filled page could be more satisfying than a blank one then... I don't know.
At any rate, although written in the "unhappy" thread, the above paragraphs aren't to be taken in a depressing manner. Just expressing thoughts of uncertainty.