Friday I saw my psychiatrist who again told me most taken/married guys my age (33 next week) would trade places with me to be single if they could. Despite him knowing I haven't had probably over an hour of sex in my life.

Saturday I cried, smoked a bunch of cigarettes, drove around 3 times to kill time, and ate a doughnut. Texted a girl that actually texted me back.

Today I cried, texted that girl back and got no response of course, smoked more cigarettes, and ate a burrito.

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I used to keep a journal of my (lack of) weekend plans so if people thought I was exaggerating how lonely and monotonous my life is, I could show them I wasn't being melodramatic, but I stopped that back in 2015 because I just didn't have the energy anymore. 6 years later, and it's the same thing. Nothing to ever do, nobody to ever see. How jealous I am of people that even just have someone to go get food with.