Regrets

All the people I never got to know
All the friends I was never friends with
I will never see them again
Why do I deserve this?

I never got to hear stories
of drunken nights and unrequited love
and requited love and jealousy.

Is it an excuse to feebly try and meekly walk away?
Should I have fought tooth and nail
or was I right to stay within boundaries?
In any case,
I'm still me.
With social anxiety.
I still have strict parents.
I'm still awkward.
I still have asperger's.
I still don't understand.

I force myself to socialize.
Shutting out the all-seeing eyes.
I am unimportant. I am not a god.

I shut out the fear and look her in the eye.
I say something weird, and she isn't surprised.
Please don't leave. Please don't leave.
She leaves. He leaves. They leave.
All I want is to fade out, to dissapear.
But some divine spirit spits on me,
and I tumble to the ground,
knocking over merchandise.
And once again they all look at me.
I cry.

I thought for the longest time I had a tumor.
That some part of my brain was shut down.
That's why I get dizzy.
That's why I fear other people.
What advantage does it serve me to have evolved into this?
It's not an advantage I realize.
It's an affliction.
I enjoy the empty streets much more than full ones.
I love the solitude the forest offers.
I hate the beach more than my ironic generation.
Dickhead. Douchebag.
Sand goes everywhere
and stays there.
The water smells.
The people
The people are everywhere.
Walking.
Watching.
They see how many friends I have.
More importantly
They see how many friends I DON'T have.
The heat.
I would rather live someplace cold.