A Pattern Is Emerging

I go out. I get mildly drunk. I dance a bit. Nothing else happens. I come home miserable and feeling more alone than ever. Why do I do this to myself every fucking week? I even tell myself that "This week I'll give it a miss", and yet guaranteed I'll still go out and repeat the same sad, pathetic routine. I'm writing this now, hating myself for having done this again, but I already know that I'll be out next week.

I think part of it is optimism, that one time I'll go out and it won't be that way, and unless I keep going out, then that one time ain't going to happen. But is it worth it? Can anything be worth this much depression? I'm sat here with the curtains open on my bay window, watching others go home hand in hand, couples young and old. I want that. Some part of me deeply craves what those people have, that level of companionship, and of love.

I've been told before that "it'll happen when you least expect it" and "that you won't find it by looking for it" and a hundred other such tidbits of dubious advice. I spent years heeding them, staying out of the limelight, keeping to myself. I got really good at not being noticed, as a result. But I don't think I can do that anymore, I can't just sit here and wait for something to happen, because I've been doing that for years already, and nothing has happened. I'm a patient man, but everyone has their limits. If I don't go out, if I don't go and seek what I want, then I don't think I'll ever find it, and I have zero faith that it will ever find me.

I think it is time I looked at trying another venue, as the Market House while it plays good music, does not seem to be doing me any favours. I'm not sure where else to try though. I've never been in Dellar's Wharf and Que Pasa is overpriced and well... shit! I think next week I'll give Yates' and Remedies a try. I used to like both of those pubs, maybe I should try them again, see if they have improved.