Sunday bloody sunday.

I feel tired, and bored, and exceptionally lonely. I hate Sundays.

It’s a curious dialectic, that I at once seek no familial interaction, while desiring interaction with everyone else. Meanwhile the family conspires to not leave me alone. It’s a Herculean effort to focus on schoolwork when you’re feeling lonely and melancholic, and the fact that the campus library is closed this weekend doesn’t assist the matter.

I may be overreacting, but I fear that some persons in my life may be receiving the wrong signals, and hence are treating me rather differently. It’s something that tends to crop up every so often. Someone assumes I secretly harbour affections for her, and hence she distances herself.

I know, it's not all about me. Logic dictates otherwise.

It’s a vicious cycle in my life. I get close to someone, they dump on me, circumstances change, they assume I’m into them, they withdraw, and then the cycle repeats. I wish some people would understand that while I can be rather fond of you, I don’t necessarily like you romantically, nor wish to be in a romantic relationship with you.

The one person who I’ve been not-so-secretly holding a torch for will never consider a relationship with me anyway; and she is one of my closest friends. I’d rather preserve the friendship than risk losing that friend. And contrary to popular belief, she’s not who you probably think she is. Poon would probably have a good idea though.

All this while nominally in a relationship which my friends are advising me to end. While I know you blokes have my best interests at heart, I’m still unwilling to end it, despite evidence to the contrary. It is admittedly hard though, because I still care a great deal for Diane.

Am I not trying hard enough? Am I not fighting hard enough? When a man stays even though the little knife wounds increase daily, is he fighting, or is he just plain stupid?

Fine, so maybe I’m being retrospective and dredging up matters which really aren’t relevant for my present circumstances. Years ago, I would probably break down, weep, and go write some bad poetry. Years later, things haven’t changed beyond the breaking down and weeping bit.

A bit of self-analysis: it is possible that as I am experiencing emotions and cognitions commonly associated with breaking up, that on an affective level, I have already ‘broken up’, and am simply experiencing the emotional fallout.

It is further possible that some may have observed changes in social nuances and interactions indicative of this, and are therefore regarding me as such, therefore causing some of the strained relations I have had over the past few days.

Except that I have yet to make a conscious cognitive decision to do anything about the relationship. Way to go on self-psychoanalysis hey?

Or the alternative explanation is that Chris is feeling like crap and overreacting. I wish someone was here right next to me though.