The Important Unimportance of Sex...

Unimportance isn't a word. Whatever.
So lately I've played the "Other Guy" to a few relationships for a few girls. It was just fun. Everything was so visceral and animalistic that I got to do and express things in the bedroom that I never had a chance to before, or that I hadn't in a long time. It was all about sex and it was phenomenal. At first.
Then, reality set in. I got a text from one of them that said,
"He knows. We can't communicate anymore. I'm sorry."
...
And that was that. Suddenly reality struck me and I felt horrible. I hid behind the notion of, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We're just two consenting adults having fun... blah blah blah." And then I got that text and it became real. I was destroying a relationship for no real reason at all. And for the third time, I was left there, alone, while she chose him. The one she had a real connection with, and I was as disconnected as I could be. It was an easy decision. It was just sex. She would cry tears for him, and plead his forgiveness, but to me it was just... "We can't communicate anymore."
That easy. They all chose their respective "him" over me in the end, and here I am, just realizing that essentially, I have/had nothing. It's done. He knows.
It sucks. I know I don't have much room to complain. I knew what I was doing was wrong and don't really deserve to be on the winning end of any situation. I didn't offer much needed emotional support in a time of need. I didn't offer an escape and a moment of safety in an abusive relationship. I was no hero. I was just a guy who it looked appealing to hook up with in a moment of weakness. Essentially, I was nothing. And it sucks. It hurts to realize that you were nothing compared to someone else. So I'm done. I'm done interfering in relationships. I'm done offering an escape to something/someone that doesn't warrant escape. I'm going to build my own house to live in. And hope to high heaven I don't get what I deserve.

Sock Diaries... 4/8/2015

I feel like I'm getting lost in a sea of LED lights and fast messaging. Social de-evolution, driven by electronic devices and so-called "social media" services, are slowly driving me out. I crave real, human connection. I would say something like... "People don't connect anymore..." but that would be a lie. People connect all the time. Just less and less often. It's funny because my first love lived in my life solely through electronic devices. They were marvels that had delivered to me the girl of my dreams. Now, I don't look at them with a longing, thinking of what they can do, but of what they can't. I feel like I've forgotten, or maybe I've never known... what it's like to have someone to be a part of, in person. the warmth of reliability. To wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night... connected.
I had a fleeting taste of it, and it was... sweet. But now, instead of that connection gotten by a genuine smile or a look of confusion or discovery at an original idea, it's blind, expressionless thumbs-ups of approval. I've never seen a person genuinely interested in a topic that they gave a thumbs up to after seeing or hearing for the first time even in person. It meant "I acknowledge the existence of whatever this is." Nothing more. But that's what people thrive off of now.
And now that I've felt and seen what it's like to exist in love only through electricity, and lost my taste for it, either I'm too far ahead, or too far behind everyone else. I'm on the outside looking in, but I'm not bitter. I'm not resentful that everyone else doesn't think like I do, and I'm not wallowing in the forever unsatisfying pool of nostalgia, always fruitlessly reminding everyone of days gone by and how great things used to be. I'm envious of others' ability to be happy with something that I can't.
A train has passed, and I'm not sure if I was supposed to be on it, or if everyone else was supposed to get off...