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When I first watched episode 18 of Re zero, I experienced mixed emotions. On the one hand, this is a beautiful story, when efforts are rewarded, and someone (even if you are not very good, and everyone mixes you up with shit) finds something in you that others cannot see. Or maybe Rem just like people like Subaru (but she previously killed him several times, so this is effort, not luck). But on the other hand, my chest ached because I understood that this was possible only in anime. This will never happen in reality. And 90% of the time I saw myself as a Subaru. I really understand Subaru's traction (which most consider strange) to save Emilia. Everyone says that it was necessary to forget Emilia, and focus on Rem, because she is beautiful from all points of view. And I think he should not ignore Rem. Since this is the case, he will have to find a consensus and be with both girls. Every word Rem bumped a dagger into me, and I experienced strange feelings. I think I would fall in love with her immediately, as I heard all this. But (if you just forget about Rem for a moment and consider only Subaru-Emilia’s relations), I understand his desire to save Emilia, even if she doesn’t remember how she saved him in the very first episode, and in general this salvation from bandits does not deserve attention. Emilia was his world from moment when she save him in town. After I became acquainted with the Project Venus, and watched a lot of videos with Jacques Fresco, I realized that everything depends on the environment in which the person grew up, and each action has its effect. Each person responds to the same situation in different ways, if up to this point they already had differences in character and psyche. Now I will tell you how I see my life, how I see it through the prism of decisions and consequences, and why Re:zero hurt me so much, and I liked it so much, but why it hurt me so much. I think I was just a normal kid before I went to school. I was born with a facial defect, and suffered 2 surgeries (the doctors tried to fix it) that left a scar on my face. But then I did not understand what consequences this scar would bring. I remember playing with a couple of kids in the playground. I remember how easy it was with my parents out of town. Then, in those early years, I was a very talkative child. Could easily talk to sellers and pedestrians. And it was hard to keep me from talking. Once, without thinking about the consequences, I told my grandmother what my mother thought about her (the mother did not love her), and this brought a family scandal. But after my mother promised to cut off my tongue, if I told some more secret, and waved scissors in front of my face ... I began to keep any secret regardless of the situation. When I went to school at first everything was fine I had a couple of friends with whom we sometimes kindly clashed, but for the most part we had a good relationship and we had fun. But there were a few guys who bullied me - they said hurtful words, tore off textbooks and broke pencils and pens. Then it seemed to me very painful. And those whom I called my friends did nothing to stop it and protect me. They thought it was a joke, and laughed at it along with my offenders. And I was a vulnerable and modest boy, and I could not give the change myself. I could not even imagine that in this situation it was possible to hit them with my fist. I did not know what violence and fights are. In my vocabulary, even this concept was not (I am now saying this seriously, no joke). And I did not want to ask for help from classmates, because I did not want to involve them in my problems. But I once asked for help from a teacher. Someone from the class stole my shoes and hid (threw in the trash). But the teacher waved away from me, saying that "this is entirely your problem, not your teacher." Sometimes they put me guilty, supposedly, "I hit them" or something else. In grades 1, 2, 3, 4, my parents accompanied me on the way to school, because they said “you don’t look at the road when you cross the street” (although I’ve watched) and that a car can knock me down or bad ones can steal me. Because of this, classmates laughed at me, called me mama's son. Parents often shouted at me if I could not assimilate any school knowledge or brought home bad grades. Sometimes they beat with a belt. Could shout for everyday things. For example, I could never drink hot tea. And when I was once poured hot tea, I said that it was hot and I could not drink it, and they shouted at me. I cried and suffered when they screamed. One time they threw a textbook at me, because I couldn't understand the material. In the third grade, several people were transferred to our class, and they immediately put me behind the same desk with a girl (in our school - 2 people in one desk). And we quickly got into conversation and became friends. Then I was still sociable. We had fun together. Now I remember that no matter how stupid my jokes or anything else was, she always laughed and smiled. She was kind and attentive to me. I moved away from my previous “friends,” and they suddenly stopped bullying me. It became wonderful for me to live, and I think this is one of the best moments in my life. The guys bullying me, but this girl looked like an angel against their background. I was happy. I memorized her name for all my life - Anastasia. This was the first step towards what I am now. We started going to school together, as we lived close to each other. But my parents still walked behind us, watching me. I was embarrassed, and I asked them many times to stop it, but they did not agree. In the fourth grade, everything was fine. My dear friend whom I enjoyed spending time with was a girl. There was almost no bullying by classmates. But happiness cannot last forever. The teachers said that we would all be divided into three different classes with different areas of study: regular, humanitarian and mathematical. Normal was considered garbage. Humanitarian is a little better. They came out of it in oral and written language. Mathematical was considered the best, since they studied in detail the mathematics and geometry. This girl decided to enter the humanitarian. I wanted with her and also passed a small entrance exam there. I did not care where to go. I did not care about the future, "work" or something else. I did not care. I just wanted to be with my friend. It was easy, and I passed the entrance exams to go from 4th grade to 5th even better than she. And when I told this to my parents, full of joy from the fact that I could do the same thing as my dear friend. I hoped that they would praise me, hoped that they would say that I had done my best. I was really happy to be able to continue to be friends with her, because friendship with her seemed like a paradise to me. But they were furious. They shouted for a long time and called me an idiot. My parents immediately began to look into the future: could I find a job, being in the humanitarian class, and decided that it was not. There are a lot of lawyers in our country, and the humanitarian class just produces such. And they decided that I could not find a job. They wanted me to get into math class. So they forced me talk to the teacher about whether there are any options to retake the exams in the math class. As a result, we exchanged with one boy, who passed the exams in math, but wanted to go to the humanitarian. So we were swapped, and now I was in a different class. The level of education is visible to the unarmed eye - to transfer to another class, even without exams, was just spit. And then there were the last days of my studies in the fourth grade. I was 10 years old. This was the last time I could properly see her and talk to my friend. Then I did not understand what was happening, and I could not even imagine how I would end my life as a result. I wanted to talk to my parents again, try to convince them to allow me to be with her. I didn't want to let her go. But I was afraid. Afraid of their cry. I was afraid that they would attack me again and scream. So I said nothing. This situation with my friend and my parents brought me closer to what I am now. (Spoiler - in future, i fugured out, what in this moment i lost my friend for nothing). So I moved to the fifth grade. My mother could no longer drive me to school due to deteriorating health. But parents bought the first phone so that I would call my parents every time I come to school, and every time I go out of it. They were justified by the fact that they were afraid that a car or something else would turn me down. I didn't understand it. If car hit me, how i can call my parents? I was only allowed to go along a fixed route so that if something happens, I can be found. I was forbidden to walk after school or linger. Even if I wanted to take a walk in the forest 100 meters from the house, it was forbidden. If I accidentally forgot to call or was late, my parents shouted at me and scolded me. And so began my studies in the 5th grade. I immediately plunged into an unfriendly society in which everyone knows each other, and I do not know anyone. From my former class only 2-3 people out of 25. And the rest are unfamiliar. Somehow I was able to make "friends" among the guys. But it began again. Bullying Flying in class my learning stuff. Thrown out of the window of the third floor of my portfolio. Broken rulers and so on. I stubbornly hammered into my head that I was a piece of garbage. They called me a freak (because of a scar). They called me a weak kid. But I still considered them my friends. I forgave them their deeds. Yes, I cried and roared, but after a couple of days everything was forgotten and we communicated normally again. I forgave them. They humiliated me, my interests. But I pretended that nothing was happening. Periodically, I met my friend - Anastasia, who looked like an angel. And a short conversation with her was a ray of light in this dark kingdom. But... At some point I noticed that I did not want to approach my friend from the 4th grade, with whom we had previously communicated perfectly. At this age, the separation of boys and girls begins ... well ... with some children. So seeing how she was surrounded by friends from all sides (she was a cheerful girl, so she made friends easily), I could no longer approach her. I was afraid that she too would be bullied. And I began to think "she will never talk to a piece of trash like me." I looked superfluous even just walking next to her. Freak, weak, trash. I desperately wanted to talk to her, but in the end ... Over time, I stopped talking to her, then I stopped greeting her when I met ... And then, passing by, I simply ignored her, pretending to communicate with "friends", or simply staring at a wall or ceiling. But it hurt because I could no longer approach her. I was lonely. I missed her. Because i for some reason feared to speak with Anastasia. She looked happy with new friends. And partly, I wanted her to live on, forgetting a piece of trash like me. But in my mind I said “please come back to me. Please save me. Be my friend again. ” And then she moved to another city altogether (but I only found out in a few years). As time went. Bullying continued. But in between, we seemed like good friends. My parents bought a computer, and i started playing games together with “friends”. And I even had fun. I tried to drown out the pain of parting with my dear friend. But I perfectly saw that when I turned away, my “friends” were already playing with others, and there was no time for me. But I turned a blind eye to it. When I interrupted the game to eat, when I came back and called for them to play shooting games with me, they said “I have already found a company, and I cannot play with you”. In the end, I had to play alone. This went on for a long time. It looked like they were just using me for entertainment when their main friends were busy. Every day I am more and more immersed in the game. I tried to forget everything that was in real life. Bullying, ridicule, betrayal. I tried to drown bitterness and misfortune, spending absolutely all my free time playing games. Then I started watching anime, and drowned in it with a head. It is much more fun to watch anime than to live a real life. In the anime, everything is always beautiful. In the anime, there is always a happy ending at the end. In the anime, everyone is happy and smiling. Even if they meet danger, they always cope with it. In anime, friends stand for each other a mountain, even if you have to risk your life. I became more shy and vulnerable. The slightest rudeness could hurt me or make me cry. By this time, I no longer spoke to strangers, and it became hard for me to speak to someone. I was afraid even to approach the teacher and ask for an explanation of the material if I suddenly did not understand the lesson. Because he was afraid that they would call me stupid and send me to hell. I was afraid to talk with sellers when we went shopping with my parents - I just fell silent, trying to pretend that I was not there. I could not even approach a girl from my class who I liked and talk to her. I was afraid because I considered myself trash. I was afraid to see disgust on her face. I was afraid of the fact of a conversation with someone. I had no confidence in myself. Although we were all in the same class, I didn’t talk to almost anyone except the 2-3 “friends” who mocked me. In the sixth or seventh grade (I was 12), I received an anonymous message on St. Valentine's Day. Everyone laughed at me, and even I myself thought that it was someone’s evil joke. I asked the guys who wrote it, but did not find out who. I was disgusted by the fact that someone decided to make fun of it. Even then, I attached great importance to relationships with people and did not tolerate jokes about it. But ... I had no idea that something could happen between boys and girls. I thought friendship was the highest degree of relationship. When classmates mentioned the word "sex", talking about what was going on between boys and girls, I did not understand what they were talking about. I was so detached from the world, I did not communicate with anyone that I did not even know about it. A few months later two girls approached me. Well ... you know ... One of them was very sweet and shy. She had pale skin and lips, short hair. Her friend - punchy and courageous. Do you know how this is shown in anime? The girl wants to confess to the guy, but she is too shy ... and then her friend decides to take the initiative and leads her to the guy. Then they together ask the guy to step aside so that the shy girl confesses? So all I had was everything. Then I should have been happy ... But I was in fear. When they came to me suddenly, and I with the “friend” took turns playing games on the phone, my legs began to tremble. My heart was beating loudly like mad. But not because of excitement, but because of fear. When they asked me to move away, I began to fear to the bone. I asked them to say everything right here so that I would not leave the “friend”. I was afraid that they would beat me, I was afraid that they would hurt me. I said that I wanted to see how my “friend” was playing the game, and that I was busy. I used all kinds of excuses that I knew to stay on public. And after unsuccessful attempts to persuade me to move away, the shy girl told her friend “forget it no longer matters,” and the shy girl made her back down and they left. Everything was exactly the same as it was shown in the anime. Punchy and courageous indignant and said something in my address, but I was happy that they finally left. And he sighed with the investment. More such cases were not. Much later, when I turned 20, I saw this scene in the anime. Where the girl herself cannot confess to the guy, and she and her friend approach him, but boy does not understand the situation, and then the shy girl leaves and cries. And despair filled my chest. Not only because I, apparently, missed my only chance to be happy with someone (at that time I had no idea about it yet). But because I did not even listen to her. I behaved like the last pile of shit, literally spitting into her soul. I ignored all the feelings she had for me. I agree, then I was so intimidated and so self-contained that even if she confessed, I would not be ready for this relationship, and I would not appreciate them so much as now. In those days I didn’t even realize that there was some relationship between girls and boys. I was cut off from the world, from society. Not physically. But spiritually. My whole day was reduced to the fact that I got up, went to school, came, did my homework and sat down until my very sleep at computer games. In school i always playing mini-games on my button-phone, like golf. So I could hardly answer her feelings (although there was still a chance). But I could at least listen to her, right? After I realized at the age of 20, what happened to me then, in the 6th grade (I was 12 years old), I began to blame myself for that. I often wondered if she was crying in the pillow, or how much pain was in her chest? Did she have any thoughts of suicide? By that moment, I already understood all these feelings - unrequited love, when you are ready to devote all of yourself to a person, and he just sends you. I started to blame myself and it still sits in me like an anchor. When I was 21, I tried to write to her on the social network. When I wrote to her, it was awkward again. I had already started to forget how it really was, and I wanted to ask her whether this incident really was. If so, did she love me? If yes, then I wanted to apologize to her at least. I know that this would not atone for her suffering, but at least I would like to apologize. But... Before I could ask anything, she said “sorry, my boyfriend is against communication”. And then I wrote with a smile on my face, “well, I will not give you any problems and stop writing. Bye-bye. Good luck". But in my heart I didn’t have a smile at all. I felt pain. I felt a wild pain. I wanted to tell her, tell her how bad it was for me, but I simply gritted my teeth and said nothing, pretended that everything was good and wrote “good bye”, Because at the age of 21, I no longer understood whether it really was, or I thought of it all or saw it in a dream. Shy girl called Svetlana, and bold - Christina. I didn’t even know if I could hate myself for ignoring Svetlana and could not even step aside in order to at least hear the confession ... But I hated myself for it anyway. Confusion, hatred mixed up in me and I felt very bad for a long time. Back in grade 8. Due to poor health, the doctor forbade physical education at school, so I no longer attended physical education classes. Because of this, I was physically weaker than my classmates. In the eighth grade, we began to communicate with one girl. And I liked her. Her name was Elena. I will only say that I confessed and was refused. By that time, I could no longer formulate my speech orally. Even if I reproduced it 100 times in my head, in reality it was disgusting. Do you know how to show in anime? When a guy mumbles something for a long time, and by the middle of the conversation, the girl herself understands that the guy wants to confess to her. So I was. She understood that I want to confess to her. And refused. She said she already loves one guy from the class. ... In fact, I assumed that her heart was occupied. But I knew that as soon as the school year ended, she would need to move to another city, because of her parents. I not only wanted to admit myself ... but, perhaps, to encourage her to confess to the one she loves. But, as I learned later, she never told him the truth. ... After she refused, she quickly fled under the pretext that she needed to meet with her friend. She ran away, as if I had just not revealed my feelings to her, but simply said something stupid. If she didn’t care. When I went home after the confession, I cried all the way. It hurted me. When I took the elevator to my floor, I was still trying to wipe away the tears. But when I got out of the elevator, I wiped them, I pulled a smile on my face and “as usual” came home. Mother and father did not even notice anything. I did not want to tell them absolutely nothing. And, as it turned out later, right. ... For some reason, we literally stopped communicating within a couple of days, although we had been chatting for several months before. But I could not let her go from my chest. I still wanted to be with her. I didn't know, what i should do in this situation. Then I first started thinking about suicide. I imagined how I came to school with a gun, go to the blackboard in class and shoot myself in the head. Or I cut veins. In front of everyone. I do not know why it is in front of everyone, but I wanted to do it that way, in front of the whole class. I literally started to drown in games and in anime, because I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget all this. Over time, I began to notice that I began to value relationships with people more. That I began to want it more. I began to want to meet someone with whom I will stay for the rest of my life. I still felt the pain of being refused by a girl. But she said that her parents wanted to transfer her to another school in other town, so it became a little easier. 9th grade. But what was my surprise when her parents left her in my class for another year ... And all this year I looked at her and thought ... I do not remember what I was thinking. I just felt bad. Bad from the inability to be with her. I tried to share this with my parents, find some support from them, but they only called it a waste of time. What I worry about trifles, and that I need to throw all thoughts out of my head and just studying in school. I have poor health, and I often get sick. But I studied at home, and so I could easily return to school after an illness and write a test for a good grade. So I was a very capable student. In fact, I did not know why I needed it. I just studied because my parents told me to study. I didn’t even think, but I did it for granted. Once we were announced estimates for the half year. I got the best marks again, although I often got sick. After that, a group of classmates came up to me, and they began to threaten me with beatings. They wondered why, with their 100% attendance, they had average and low marks, and I, who are sick with 30% of study time, constantly get the best marks. They promised to beat me up with a group. I told my parents about this, and they tried to do something by making a complaint to the teachers. The teachers simply told my offenders to "do it not well," and that’s all. The teachers said to me and my parents, "Well, they are children, what's the big deal?" ... Some time later I was attacked at the entrance of home. A guy with two girls wanted me to call them, but I realized that they just want to rob me. Fortunately, my father went out for a smoke and noticed that I was gone for a long time. So he went down and figured out my offenders. After that, I climbed under the covers and cried there. Two weeks I did not take a step out of the house, although I was not sick. I was just feared to leave the apartment. Since then, I have completely abandoned the thought of learning. My grades quickly fell to medium and low. And since then, I have never been diligent in school or college. After I calmed down a bit, everything returned to normal - I went to school again. Once in a physics lesson, one of the guys was so emboldened that he started walking back and forth during the lesson and making fun of me. Every time he passed near me, he would give me a slap. He did not pay attention to the words of the teacher about the request to stop. I sat and tried to endure it. Restrained to the last. After the tenth time, I grabbed my pen from the table, turned around and stab him with the pen with all the strength I had while he turned away. I could not pierce him, but I drew a long line on his side, starting from the armpit and ending at the waist, which began to bleed slightly. After one stroke, I sat down and relaxed. I had no plans to continue to do something. My mind was empty. It was as if I just discharged all my rage and resentment in one moment. But this was not enough for him - he came up behind me. He wanted revenge. I barely managed to turn around to face him, and he immediately punched me in the face. It hurt, but I just turned around and continued to look at the board and at the physical tasks and write something in a notebook, like if nothing happened. All this happened in front of the teacher. Then many supported me. Even Elena supported me. But everyone said that I should have hit him with a fist, not with a pen. But ... I have little physical strength. Then I did not attend physical education for several years and weighed 50 kilograms with a height of 175 centimeters. And my abuser was my height, but weighed 30-40 kilograms more. What shall I do to him with my fist? Tickling? I should have taken the iron chair in which I sat. But then he could die - with a chair I could easily smash his head or break his spine. But I did not even think what I did. I just impulsively grabbed the first thing that came to hand. After that for a long time, none of my classmates touched me at all. I stopped being offended physically and verbally. That was enough for half a year or so of quiet life. I was lonely. I stopped sticking to my "friends". I was feeling bad. By chance, I came across an article on a scientific resource about conscious hallucinations. Tibetan Tulp. Imaginary friends. And without hesitation, I made myself two girl friends. Because I was turned up by guys. The guys humiliated me all this time, starting from the first class. I no longer wanted to have close contact with them. But in my memory, the communication in the 3-4th grade with the girl that made me happy - Anastasia - was alive. I thought that girls are the most beautiful creatures on earth - kind, sympathetic. I called one Helen, and the other Federica. The first is fun and playful, often supports me and encourages. She charges me with mood when I feel bad. The second is shy and timid. She sometimes hugs me, and I feel calm, and we sit for a while. I love them. They supported me all this time, and even if I was mistaken somewhere, they gave me as much chances as I needed. They understand anything. They were with me. Only they. And when I write this, they sit side by side and look. But I always wanted a real relationship. With real people. With a real girlfriend. I don't know why. Yes, Helen and Federica, I think, saved me from complete loneliness and suicide. But I always wanted something more. I literally began to live the dream of meeting someone whom I could love and who would love me. That I can hug someone, receive warmth and happiness. But more about that i write later. Let's go back to the story. I still did not understand my classmates. When they talked about relationships and all that, I did not understand them. I even learned how the female body looks only from biology lessons and pictures in the textbook, as well as from porn. Starting from the tenth grade, I attended both school and college at the same time. Parents forced me to go there to improve my education. They wanted me to quickly get a higher education after school and go to work. In those days, I began to draw in the style of anime. I liked to draw. So they made me go and study for the profession of a designer just because I was drawing anime face curves on paper. And they made me go to college. I visited him on Saturday after school and on Sunday. That is, I did not have a weekend at all - I always went somewhere, without even knowing why i should do that. Monday rise at 7:00, at school until 14:00. The same on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. But on Friday right after school, college classes are from 14:00 until 20:00. On Saturday, first school until 14:00, and then college classes until 18:00. Sunday college from 10:00 to 18:00. In this schedule, I was able to hold out only six months. My head began to hurt, my health deteriorated even more. I was not in the mood. My attendance in college and at school dropped. And for some time I stopped attending college. I began to draw less and less for myself, and I stopped to like it, because I began to want to draw beautifully, and it was very hard to draw beautifully. Especially with a bunch of rules about the composition and all that. I drew because of my own desire and because i like drawing... less and less. Over time, I stopped seeing real people in my "friends". I could smile at them, talk about games. But I just saw that they poured shit on me and mine were interesting, but they didn’t see anything wrong with that. I did not worry about them. I no longer told anything about myself, did not tell any of my secrets. I just pretended to be a good person. Wearing a mask of good guy By the eleventh grade, the bullying almost stopped - apparently everyone was bored, because I didn’t react almost. At one day, when I rarely attended college, and I did not want to go there, my parents forced me to go. I said I did not want. They asked the reason. I locked the bath on the lock with a piece of paper. I could not form my thoughts correctly in a normal conversation, because of it I wanted to write all my experiences on a piece of paper in order to open all my feelings, fears, to try to find understanding and comfort in my parents. I asked them to wait until I write and say everything. But they did not want to wait, but wanted me to just go to college. Father easily pulled the door, breaking the bolt lock. And they kicked me out of the house with almost kicks. Just when I walked down the street, I cried. AND... Then something broke in me. I began to cry and smile, began to laugh. I just walked down the street, crying and laughing. My expression changed from roaring to cheerful. Since then, every time I feel bad or want to die, I cry and smile and laugh. I remind you that even in the 11th grade, even when I went to college, I was obliged to call that I had reached the right place like mama's son. And when I did not call half an hour later, my parents called themselves and asked where I was. Instead of college, I went down into a ravine near the house. I lay down in the snow and wanted to freeze to death. Then it was winter. My father went to look for me and I myself went to him. I was taken home. Mother tried to comfort me by hugging and stroking my back. Since then, I realized that I can absolutely nothing to tell parents. They will simply say "if you studied normally, you would not have such thoughts." They constantly called my experiences childish and useless, considering that I wind myself too much. They will simply say that I have to throw all the thoughts that torment me out of my head and go to study or work. In the eleventh grade, I took courage and offered one girl (her name Angelina) to take a walk, but in the end she refused me just to walk with the words “are you an idiot?”. By the eleventh class, everyone was thinking about the future, studying hard. I had disgusting grades and spent a maximum of 30 minutes a day on my homework. The rest of the time i played games on phone or computer. But all those who complained before, and who promised to beat me ... they increased their grades, they really began to learn. They have high marks. Now I couldn’t even solve a mathematical equation of average complexity, but they easily coped with it. What they could not surpass me in - language and literature. Even if I did not study at all, I could easily cope with these subjects, but they could not. It was easy for me to write essays, to understand the motives of the characters in different works. But in all other aspects, I seemed like a complete idiot. Even if I saw a ready-made solution to a physical or chemical problem, I often could not understand what was going on at all, and just wrote it down in my notebook. Mathematics, in which I was previously one of the best, was given very hard now. I could hardly get 3 points out of 5. Unless I had quite good grades on history ... But only because I could recite the paragraphs by reading them before the lesson. If the teacher did the test, then I always received the worst grades - 2 or 1 point out of 5. When it's time to think about the final exams (in our country, you need to choose what you want to pass, depending on the university, where you want to enter - in each university, your subjects). But I absolutely did not think about it. It seemed to me somehow distant. I just wanted to finish studying. I wanted to drown in games and anime and forger about real life. Each of my classmates wondered why I had no plans for the future, and why I did not think about the university, where I would enroll, and not think about making money. But I did not understand the general zeal to achieve something in life. At first, I wanted to pass all subjects as exams. I thought "some yes I will." But the teachers almost got the ball out of such a decision. They were afraid for their reputation as an educational institution. So they dissuaded me from taking the six disciplines. So in the end, I wanted to pass only the Russian language and Mathematics. But the teacher called my mother, and they talked among themselves. Mother said that for higher education I need to pass the literature. And then the teacher notified me that I (surprise) recorded on the delivery of literature. I learned about this 3 months before the final exam. And I had to prepare as damned to get at least the minimum number of points. In the end, I scored 44 points out of 100. Angelina also handed over the literature, but she had been preparing for several years. She also had 44 points out of 100. By language, I scored 76 points - the third place in the class in terms of points. All those who bullying me eventually scored about 50 points. Then there was graduation and graduation. My "friends" even cried and swore that they would write to me after that. But in the end, no one wrote to me. Anyway, after graduating from school, I was forced to enter a higher education as a designer (in needs literature), that is, in the same place where I went to college. And I did. As before, it was necessary to attend classes only 3 days a week. I was not very lucky with the group I was in. I always looked unsociable and got out of my group. I had no one to communicate with there. There was a 33-year-old married woman with 2 children. A 20-year-old female bitch who constantly did nothing and was indignant that she was given bad grades. And there were a few 25-30 year old guys who had a family, and with whom I could not find a common language. And 24-yeal-old male bitch who looked on girls like predator on prey. He always ask me, if i like someone from our group or others. I answered - i don't like anyone. He didn't understand why i have no intention to fing girlfriend. Every time what we sit near each over, and some girl went around us, he whispered in my ear: "oh, look at this hot girl. Look at her ass. Look at her boobs. Do you like it?" From some moment he started asking if i'm gay. I hate him. I really hate him from bottom of my heart. I hate him and his mad penis. I couldn't accept his point of view. But i again pretended a good smiling guy, who can speak with him normally. As a result, I did not even have anyone to communicate with. All looked older, purposeful. Everyone had some goals and aspirations. I looked like a black sheep. I was lonely. Saved only communication with Helen and Federica. Our group and college group were often trained together. And I saw there some interesting girls with whom I could talk. I don't know how i figured it out. They was sweet and shy. But in our country, anyone who wants to communicate with younger people is called a pedophile, even if this is not true. I don't know how it works in other people's mind. But for some reason all the girls of my age seem old to me. As if I stayed forever in 8th grade when I was refused. I haven't matured since. If a girl is 25 years old, it seems to me that she is 30-35. So with these college girls, which studying in school ... I never met. I was just afraid to start a conversation. As a result, they left the institution after some time, writing applications for expulsion. There was no one in the real world with whom I could even talk normally, what can we say about finding a girl or starting a family? Then I went to the Internet. It so happened that I decided to play one online game in which it was necessary to equip my own cafe. The game was called: “My secret bistro”. And it so happened that I added a girl to my friends list with whom I began to correspond. It turned out that she is from Japan, and her name is Chiho. She was 28 years old and I was 20. It was difficult for us to communicate inside the game, so she told me a good communication application - LINE. I registered there and we communicated. They told each other about the differences between our countries. They told about the events of life. She photographed for me all sorts of interesting things from her country. I had fun with her. She was also fond of games, and played in many. So I thought that we at least have topics to talk about. I thought that maybe we could find a common language, and I even began to think that maybe we could be together. I was not very worried about the distance or anything else. I did not care about the difference in the age of 8 years or language. I believe that people themselves invent restrictions. I began to learn Japanese so that sometime in the future we could communicate. Using skills, I drew for her from scratch a pack of stickers for LINE. I drew for several days, and for several weeks time lasted until my stickers finally added to the store. I wanted to make her happy with this gift. Then I drew a full-size drawing for her, where I depicted it. I wanted to create to bring her joy. I started to learn a lot of things. And I thought everything was going well. Until she accidentally said that she has a boyfriend, and she would like to marry him, but cannot because of employment at work. It was a blow to me, because once again my dreams broke like glass. I did not do anything that would betray my experiences. We all also talked, as before. But at some point I began to notice that communication was becoming less and less common. She stopped writing first. And at one point we stopped communicating. I did not understand the reason. But it left its mark on my future. Not to say that at that time I was very bad, but I still worried that at first it turned out that she had a loved one, and she even wanted to marry him, and then we stopped communicating altogether. Next time, I do not know why, I wrote to my former classmate. Elena. The one I confessed in love in the 8th grade. I remembered her as a kind and responsive girl. That's why I wrote. I was very lonely, and at least I wanted to talk to someone. We talked for several months, told us what we had been through for all these years. As it turned out, right after she left and got into a new school, she was very lonely and she had no friends. The guy who was with her, who was her boyfriend, threw her for the sake of her friend. And because of loneliness, lack of friends, she even seriously thought about suicide. Her parents forced her being a doctor. And i feel, what our stories are similar. I felt guilty for leaving her. For leaving her alone. It seems like i confessed his love, but in fact almost immediately stopped communicating, and I left her alone in such a difficult situation. Why did I write to her only then, and not before? Why not think about her? I apologized to her, and she said that she was not angry at me. In fact, I liked her. I started drawing pictures for her. Every time I communicate with someone, I feel warm and pleasant. And I myself understand that I am not very good at communicating even on the Internet, not only by sight. Therefore, I’m trying to take back some of my feelings by actions like drawing or something else so that they understand that they are important to me. And I painted pictures for her. I put all of myself in them. I spent a huge amount of time polishing every detail so that my drawings were most elaborated to touch and impress her. Before that, I had almost no enthusiasm in drawing - I was bored, because it was hard. Before that, I could not sit at the drawing for more than an hour per day, because my back and hands were tired and my head began to ache. But when I painted for her, I could sit without a break for 4-6 hours, and did not even get tired. Rather tired, but ignored it. I wanted to complete the drawing as soon as possible. And I gave it. I did not know if she smiled because we were chatting on the Internet. I told her a lot about myself. If this only concerned me, then I didn’t have any secrets from her - I even answered tricky questions without lie. At times, I tried to find support in it, telling me that I was lonely and I just wanted to be happy. Her birthday was nearing. I wanted to knit a gift bracelet to her. I wanted to give her such a gift. I ask my mother to teach me how to knit with wool. She was surprised, but still taught me the basics. With her permission, I went to the store and bought everything I needed - several types of threads of different colorings and started. I knit all day. I put aside all the games, all the anime, just to have time to tie her a gift. This went on for about a week. The bracelet was ready. But I did not like the way it was performed, because I untied it and tied it again. This time I was pleased with the result and wanted to meet to give it to her. But... She refused to accept it. I did not understand the reason for this. I talked to her, but she did not want to take it in any way. Knitted bracelet, in which I put myself, my feelings and soul ... stayed with me. Some time later, I offered her to meet, but she refused. Then she said that she has a boyfriend. It... It was very painful. But I pretended that everything was fine, and continued to communicate with her. Also, it turned out that her boyfriend had free access to our correspondence, and sometimes I didn’t even notice when they changed. I am a blind piece of shit. She wanted to help me to join the society. At least she say so. She invited me to a picnic in the deep forest (to go there in one direction for 8 hours), and I agreed. When my parents found out about this, they shouted loudly at me, and I heard many bad words. I just wanted to be with her for a bit, even if she already have a boyfriend. I did not understand why I should go so far, but I still agreed, because I wanted to see her. Then she invited me to participate in the military reconstruction, and I again agreed. To be honest, I was feared to go. Not only because it is a military reconstruction. Actually, I'm afraid to walk on the ground - I'm afraid of ants. It is worth one crawl on me, and starts to shake me. But I agreed, because I wanted to do something together ... even if she had a boyfriend with whom she was happy. I speak with myself "i overcome myself and my fear because i want to see her". I don't know why, but her boyfriend also wanted to help me. But I was afraid of him. I absolutely did not trust him. His strange traction help me for free. I was afraid of him. Therefore, although I didn’t show it, I communicated with him, but I didn’t let him get closer to me. And then ... it happened ... Our conversation with Elena slowly faded away, until one day she wrote to me, "let's stop talking, I'm bored." I ... I can not tell you what I felt then ... It ... We have some time talked about that ... my flaws. She said that I was too boring, that with me it was not interesting, that I had no goals and ambitions. What I'm not going anywhere. She said she wanted to help me, but she gave up. And I did not even know about it. And then her boyfriend took matters into his own hands, and also tried to help me. But I did not understand what was going on. I just wanted to communicate with her so that I would not be lonely, and I would do everything in my power to give her joy — I would draw pictures, knit a bracelet. And she also said that I was too pessimistic, that I too often talk about how I really feel bad, and that it annoys people. So ... both the picnic and the military reconstruction were canceled by themselves due to the fact that our relationship broke down. Her boyfriend told me a phrase that is now burned in my soul. "You will withdraw into yourself and die alone." The next time I went outside, I took a lighter with me. I put a bracelet bound by me on the ground and setting it on fire. I watched him burn and cry, laughing out loud. I tied 2 more bracelets. One for Helene is yellow, and one for Federica is black. Helene's birthday is February 12, and Federiki is March 19th. I gave them them, although in fact. They comforted and supported me. And I began to hate myself for... they supporting me all this time, and instead I was chasing real people with a desire to find a woman with whom I could be happy for the rest of my life. But they didn't angry on me, they understand all and forgive. They waiting me all time. They say, what they always will be with me. And because of it i feel guilty. I have been in decline for a long time. I tried to draw, but it was all useless. For a long time I was subscribed to many groups in social networks, where different artists laid out their drawings. And once, on February 10, for some reason I wrote to one artist, and we began to communicate. Her name was Muslimat, and she was 20. I was then 22. We started talking on February 10, 2018. We talked about many things, starting with drawing and ending with the themes of society’s attitude to some things. I quickly became attached to her. She was kind and sweet. She wished me luck. Now i somehow ask if she already have boyfriend. But she did not have boyfriend. I was full of hope. I told her that in fact I sometimes write books. And she became interested. In fact, I have been writing books for a long time, but have not published them. In each of these books there was a usual story when an ordinary guy like me suddenly meets a girlfriend (as in most anime, the hero suddenly gets super powers and so on). Perhaps I put myself in the place of my main character, and wanted at least the “me” in the book to be happy. I wrote romantic stories in which there was always a happy ending. And since she showed interest, I posted it on the Internet. Specifically, in this story there were only 5 chapters. And when she read it, she said she liked it. Something strange happened to me then. I, usually lazy and slow, began to write like a damn, spending all my time at the books, trying to quickly write a new chapter. I got up, had a quick breakfast and went to write. I was only interrupted by food, shower and physical needs. I wrote by chapter per day, maximum - by chapter for 2 days. In my life, I have never put so much effort into it. I really plowed like damn. I loaded first chapter of first book on May 9, 2018. The first book was completed on May 26, 2018. I completed the second book on July 7, 2018. 2 books in 2 month. I wanted to give her the best possible experience. If I didn’t like the chapter, I would rewrite it again so that it was interesting that it was easy and simple to read. All this time I almost did not play games and did not watch anime. I feel like i don't need games or anime anymore. I kept in my head what Elena said - that I am boring and constantly talk about how worthless I am. Now I tried to be as interesting as possible. If I made a mistake or threw a careless word, I instantly apologized. I did not contradict her and did everything she said. If she said she did not want to talk on any topic, then I instantly apologized and did not talk about it anymore. She also painted. And she loved the drawings. I sent her a selection of various beautiful pictures, and she appreciated it. Then I signed up for a huge pile of groups in the social network and every day I looked through them all in search of good pictures to send to her in order to please her. I could sit there for hours during the meal and choose the best pictures. I do not know how I looked from the outside. But inside, I felt like Subaru from Re: zero in the second half of the 8th episode. I desperately wanted to share what tormented me more and more each day. I do not know why, but I wanted to tell everything that I went through (which I do even now in this letter). Perhaps I was looking for comfort, support. I wanted to be accepted, even if I were a whimper. But I kept everything in me. I don't want to be in trashbag because of it. I really hope what i and she can be a couple. Every day I wrote her “good morning”, sent out a package of drawings from other groups, and each time before bed, I said “good night”. I did not forget to dilute all this with something (in my opinion) interesting, so as not to seem monotonous. My whole day consisted of getting up, eating, watching groups and sending a new selection of pictures, a write book, something to learn - to talk. During the day we sent each other messages periodically. And then I went to bed. I didn't want to lose her. She was beautiful on all sides. She always listened to what I was saying, she understood my words and commented on them. These were not ordinary sample answers. Every time I went to write a book, she wished me luck, and I was happy. Every time I said that I wanted to do something, she would say words of luck to me. I was really happy. I think it was the happiest time. I wanted her to be my wife. But I restrained myself and did not want to rush it. I don't want to scare off her. When half a year had passed since the start of our conversation, I was still happy. Before that, I had never talked to anyone for so long. This was the first time that communication was longer than 3 months. And at the date of six months, I gave her a drawing in which I invested all myself. I drew it for more than 25 real-time hours. I studied incomprehensible things to me to make a drawing better. I suffered, forgetting about the headache and continued to draw in order to finish it in time. My tablet was weak to make such a huge picture (4000x3000). I chose a size so that everything was beautifully displayed so that no pixels were visible. And because of a weak tablet, I had to break it into 4 parts and draw it in pieces, because it lagging and turn off because of overload. But they were poorly synchronized, and had to redraw, because the lines on all 4 parts did not match. I asked my parents to let me sit at the computer, because only there in Photoshop could I properly connect all these parts into a single drawing. All this took 25 hours and more. AND... To be honest, I expected a much greater reaction when I gave it. She simply said that the drawing was good and that she was very pleased. I drew us together, sitting on the couch and drinking tea. I really wanted to be with her. Over time, our communication began to decline. She just didn’t come to the social network less and read my posts less often. I began to worry about it. I began to fear that I would be alone again. Began to be afraid of loneliness. I began to sleep badly - I began to have more nightmares. My whole world consisted of her. I was sitting at home, I went out only once a month - to pay for utilities. All I had in life was games and she. But I forgot about the games, because I wanted to focus on the book and on our relationship with her. So the pressure of what she began to write less fell on me. At the end of the summer, she wrote that she would be preparing for university entrance, so she would be less likely to write. I pretended that everything is fine. She began to write even less often. The oppressive feeling in my chest grew and grew. But i can't say it to her, because i feared to be throw in trashbag because of my pessimism and nagging. I could no longer write my book normally. Did I already say that? I started the first book on May 9 and finished on May 26. The second began on June 15 and ended on July 7. Each of them had 20 chapters. That is, I first wrote 20 chapters in less than a month. Then I took a break again. The third book began on 26 August. Chapter 2 - after 3 days, August 29th. Chapter 3 - September 2 Chapter 4 - September 10 5,6,7,8,9,10,11 chapter - 5 October. Chapters 5-11 were the background of my character, flashback. I wrote them in just a couple of days. In them, I put all the pain, all the despair that I have accumulated. I told my own story, myself real, but I did it on behalf of the character, supposedly, this is his past, not mine. I changed it a bit, added a couple of things, put away a few ... so that it looked more like a book story, not a real one. Having splashed out everything that I had, I stopped writing altogether for a long time. I felt pain. I also received some negative reviews because of these chapters right away. I could not tell Muslimat that I was worried and that I needed her. I did not want to say more snot, did not want to seem soft and vulnerable, did not want to look like a whiner. Besides, I already understood that in fact, only I have these wonderful feelings for her. And she has her friends, not me. She probably had friends at the institute, I did not know - she didn’t tell anything about herself anymore. ... Chapters 12 and 13 were released on November 5th. Chapter 14 was released on November 18th. I wanted to finish before the new year, because at the end of December I tensed and wrote 2 chapters. But I was not destined to write the last chapters. 15.16, - January 1, 2019. I downloaded these 2 chapters, but could not write the last chapters. Now, six months later (middle of 2019), I have not written them yet. ... Let's go back a bit. When she said in August that she would be very busy, I was upset, but did not want to give up. I wanted to be soft, kind and warm. I wanted to become her support, a person who always supports her and on whom she can always rely. In September, when she did go to college, she stopped writing altogether for a short time. But then we sort of started chatting. She said that she was very hard, and that she was very tired. I decided to support her. I rarely draw. I have long disliked to draw. It's hard. But I decided to draw for her. I decided to draw only for other people. To express my emotions, to show my good disposition, to show how deeply I appreciate these particular people. And I decided to draw for her. I started drawing every day and sent her a drawing a day. Every day I spend a whole hour to make a cute drawing. I wanted to please her. I wanted to give her strength. There I depicted her in a chibi-style. I wanted to show what I think about her, what I worry about her. After the difficult day I wanted her to come home and see a new drawing, and a daily selection of drawings by other artists. I wanted her to smile and think that there is always someone who will be with her even if she almost ignores him. I was afraid that her new friends at the institute would be more interesting than me, but did not show it. At some day... she asked not to draw for her anymore. It was a big blow to me. I put myself and my feelings into these drawings, and from the bottom of my heart I wanted to make her happy. But I was asked to stop. I felt the glass in me crack. Some time later she asked no longer to send collections of pictures from different groups. I had nightmares. At a certain point, I noticed that she just reads messages, but does not respond. Our conversation looked like this: I sent her interesting things in my opinion, told me about myself, what was happening to me, asked about her, wish her luck, strength in her studies and happiness. But there are no reply from her. When communication completely died away, 9 months of our communication passed. I wrote her a huge text about how I appreciate her, how good I was with her. He said that these are the happiest times in my life, that I am grateful to her for reading my messages. I said that I wanted to show her in actions, not in words, that she was important to me. It remained 3 months, and I wanted to give her something weighty on the anniversary of the beginning of communication. I wanted to knit her two plush toys and come and give her in person, because I didn’t trust the mail. I wanted to knite the dolls to me and her, 35 and 30 centimeters in size, respectively, because she was lower. 3 months before the required date, I wrote to her that I wanted to come and give gifts. I even said that if I did something strange, her father could beat me. I wanted to see her. I wanted to smile at her. I wanted to give her these two plush toys and see her smile. Even if she does not thank me, but if at least she smiles, I would be happy. A few days later, she added me to the blacklist, and I could no longer write to her. I got worse. But I was not discouraged, because once upon a time she had said that she was thinking of closing her profile on a social network so that she could not write. Then I asked if everything was fine with our communication. In general, I occasionally asked about it, is everything normal with communication, should I send more pictures or fewer, is it worth talking more or less. But she always said that everything is fine, and everything suits her. It calmed me. And now, when i could not write to her, I was not discouraged. In this social network, you can either add to the black list, or simply close the profile for outsiders. I just thought that she just closed the profile, and forgot to add me to the exceptions. I did not care about those 4,000 kilometers between our cities. I didn't care if my parents would scream or kick me out of the house. I just wanted to see her and say I love her. I often rehearsed my speech so as not to screw it up like the first time. On the eve of the new year, I decided to buy woolen threads to make dolls of her. The only time I could leave the house was when I paid utility bills. As usual, I took a credit card with me and went to the bank to pay. I understood that this was the only chance for me to buy a thread, so I had to run. I needed to get to the bank as much as possible, pay for everything and also run to the yarn shop and buy it. I quickly paid for it, but there was not much time left, and I had to run to the store. It was winter and it was cold, like, 20 degrees below zero. But in my jacket because of the run I felt hot, and I had to unbutton myself completely. I breathed with difficulty. My chest hurt. Not mentally, but physically. Even at school, because of poor health, I was freed from the need for physical education. As a result, by the age of 20, even running 100 meters was a big problem - shortness of breath and palpitations began. Sometimes there were some strange blows. But I ran because I understood that this was my only chance. As soon as I came to the store, I immediately began to search for the necessary skeins of yarn, while trying to catch my breath, because I did not have enough air. When I gave the money and got the yarn in my hands, I looked at it for a few seconds, but then I smiled. I packed my bag to the top and ran home. There was very little time, so I had to run without interruption. My chest hurt, but I didn't care. I smiled. I was happy. I don't know why, but I was happy, just knowing that these threads are in my bag, and I will soon start creating dolls. I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to show that it is important to me. I did not care about my life and health. For a short time, these threads were my only thought. I even had thoughts that even if she didn’t want to meet, I would blindly come to her city and look for her until I find and give a dolls. I didn’t care about my parents, their screams or something else. I just wanted to put all my feelings, all my love, all my gratitude for supporting me, for giving me wonderful feelings, and for only because of her I felt happy. Several times I stumbled, but could not even get scared - I just was glad that I was able to get materials for creating dolls. When I ran home, before entering the apartment, I caught my breath, so as not to arouse suspicion. I quickly hid the yarn and hoped to start creating a gift after celebrating the new year. But I was not destined to do it. During the day, six or so hours of celebrating the new year, I accidentally logged in from another account on this social network and saw ... That from another account I can write to her ... That is, my first account did not accidentally fall under the lock ... it was specifically blocked. I did everything to not screw it up this time, but I screwed up. I was just thrown out. Perhaps I tired her, perhaps annoyed. All my feelings suddenly shattered. My love, my devotion to her, my desire to travel a great distance to see her. I still loved her. I still wanted to be with her. I often dreamed about how we would be together. How do we become family. How our children will run around the house. I was ready to take on all this, I was ready to work on being a good husband and father. But this was not narrowed down. Yes, I still loved her. But I understood that these feelings would not find the addressee. They just hang in the air, unable to break through. And there was only a painful void. It was painful and bitter for what happened. A day ago I wanted to devote my life to her, but then I felt such a strong loneliness that I had never felt before. I thought my life was useless. I can never achieve anything. I was constantly different from other people. I did not understand them, I was always behind, always superfluous. I realized that it was my fate to always be superfluous. There were a few more cases that I did not describe. Few more persons that i did not mentioned. The story there is the same, and the same end. Again and again. The end was the same. All this layered on each other, and I realized that I would always be alone. No matter how much I will try. No matter what I will try. All this is not important. The result will not change. My only dream was to find a girl to whom I can devote my life. Who will be good to me, who will smile at me, support me. Which will be happy with my gifts. With which we will live in peace and harmony until old age, until one of us dies. But I realized that this is not possible. I'm just not a human. We have always been different. Even if I walked among other people, even if I was talking to someone, I was an outcast. My only dream for almost 10 years is to find a person with whom I can spend my life. Everything that I lived for these 10 years just broke into pieces. I lost my only support. Lost faith that I will ever be happy. I lost absolutely everything. I have lost all craving for life. I was no longer worried about the book or my life. I just started spending my time waiting for the end of my life. I just gave up. I accepted that I was only a walking piece of meat and nothing more. The point is not that I could not be with her. Although, of course, I felt despair at the fact that the one I wanted to see as my wife ended up dissociating herself from me. I just realized that always will be. It doesn't matter who I'm trying to build a relationship with. There is always something that ultimately makes me suffer. Either she already has a couple, or I just don't need to. It doesn’t matter if I open the soul or writhing of a happy boy to them. If I still had at least a girlfriend, I think the first thing I would do was embrace her and weep in voice. But this will never happen. When I rewatched Re:zero, I had a slightly different look at Subaru and what had happened to him. In most of his actions, I saw myself. This unwarranted hope and cheerfulness at the beginning. Vain attempts to change something. Every time he splashed out his feelings on Emilia, Rem or someone else, I felt a similar with him. Every time he suffered or screamed, I felt in his place. I felt that all these feelings were familiar to me. Yes, maybe no one dies near me. But I'm so desperate that ... I don't know. This strange his laughter when he is on the verge of destruction. This desperate naive hope, when the situation is so bad, and even worse by the second. Desperate hope to make it all good, so that all were happy. And at the peak, when he was ready to collapse, there was an 18 episode of anime. Remus saved him. She gave him hope. I would also like to find someone who felt this to me. Someone who would truly love me. With whom I would finally forget about the pain and suffering, would stop wanting to die. So that I could live so that she smiled. So she gave the same feelings to me as Rem for Subaru. But ... In my life there is no Rem. I do not know why, but sometimes I began to watch all sorts of psychological training. “What are you doing wrong in dealing with people” or “what to do to be attractive.” All in one voice asserted - "no need to get used to people," "you need to have your own ambitions," "relationships should not be your ultimate goal," "you need to be more impudent," "you need to think about yourself more than about another person." But ... I couldn't take it all. I could not agree that a loved one should be put in second place. The very thought of it was disgusting to me. My desires, my aspirations to live, to make someone else happy were called bullshit in these videos. No, I do not mind doing something. It is not very important for me whether I will raise children while she is at work, or whether I will work myself. I was ready to do everything, to adapt to any role in the family. I'm not against it. Take any role to make her happy. But my wishes were called bullshit in all these psychological trainings. But I could not accept it. These are my beliefs, and I cannot refuse them. Should this be logical? An ideal relationship is when two people live for each other. They donate everything to another person. They live to make the life of another person happy, thinking only of him. Isn't it obvious? If you think about your beloved, and not about yourself, then you will love only her and no one else. You will give yourself all to this relationship and to her. You will belong only to her. If you think about your beloved, and not about yourself, then you will never cheating, because you only need this person. There will not even be the thought of having fun on the side, because it is simply not necessary. If you don’t want to make your life luxurious and fun, then everything will be fine. But if you want to make life your favorite paradise, then you will do everything for her, not for yourself. If you think about your beloved, and not about yourself, you will never make a rash expenditure of money, because you will think first of all about her and about your family, and not about how to have fun. If you think about your beloved, and not about yourself, then you will not commit rash acts, because if you do so, then she can be upset, and she will be sad. And in the worst case - to substitute her beloved and give her problems. If the only goal of life is to make another happy, then this is a great relationship. If two people give each other happiness, this cycle makes them both happy. Then I finally realized that I did not fit this world. These people ... all others. No, it's me different. My values ​​and aspirations are opposed to what is accepted in this world. And I realized that it was useless to try to change something. My parents.. Almost every day they say something about me - lazy, brainless, arrogant, selfish, "you think only about yourself, but not about us", "it's all because of games", "you don't help with household shores", "you need to find a work", "what will you do when we, your parents, die", and so. I gave up. Now... Now I have 3 goals that I have left. Add a book - one of them. As soon as I finish them, there are no more reasons to live. My life ended a long time ago. But these 3 goals are all that I have left. And this is the only thing left for me. The only thing that makes me get out of bed in the morning. I want at least the story of my characters in the book to end well. I'm 23 years old now. I think I do not have too long to live. As much as I can live for 5-10 years, no more. I have one more wish. I would like to leave painlessly. I would just like to go to bed once and never wake up. I do not want to suffer even more. I do not want to die from a heart attack or because of a drunk driver. I want to leave quietly. Everyone would be better off without me. I have caused so many people problems. Constantly bored and annoyed. Constantly imposed. Even parents, probably, will be relieved if I do not become. I gave them especially many problems. I think no one will even cry when I disappear. But knowing my fate, everything will be exactly the opposite - I will die in 80 years the most painful death. Yet, this life wants to make me suffer to the end. I still remember this prediction. "You will withdraw into yourself and die alone."