Drifting in the Space of Ramblings

Ramblings About Rejection

I've always thought I was ugly.

I know it's all in my head; in fact, I'm quite attractive. Many women tell me I have delicate features, that I'm handsome and all that. But deep down, I've always thought I was ugly.

I think this idea of seeing myself as ugly is a defense mechanism to avoid the pain of rejection. I've always had problems with that. I felt I had to be the best at everything, do things right, because I wanted to be accepted somehow by someone or some group.

The truth is, even when I was accepted, I felt like a fish out of water. It seemed like there was no place for me on this planet. I was always out of my natural habitat no matter where I was. The more I fought to be accepted somewhere on this planet, the more it tried to expel me.

It succeeded.

So much so that now I'm here, drifting in space, so far from everything.

I just wanted to feel good where I was. Nothing more, nothing less. Why was it so difficult? I looked around and saw so many happy people. Why couldn't I be one of them?

Did the rejection come from people or from me? Was I the one rejecting happiness? Was I the one preventing it from coming to me?

I refuse to believe it was my fault.

I remember when I changed schools in fifth grade, and my classmates didn't want to talk to me because I had long hair. I didn't walk or dress like them, so I was an element that needed to be removed. The more people treated me like a strange element, the more I became one. I battled day and night to become the strangest element possible and did everything to make them hate me. Only then would my hatred for everything be justified.

My hatred for everything and everyone grew so much that it took over me in a way I could never escape from.

"Only love kills the demon," said the Native American who was killed for sheltering a pair of killers in a 90s movie—how much wisdom there is in this phrase.

Love could have saved me, but it only made things worse. It only dragged me deeper into the depths of my disgust for people and consequently for myself as well.

Rejection is the first step on a dark and lonely path; once you take the first steps, there's no turning back. I took my first steps when I was very young, unaware of the consequences.

I lived my life almost in complete solitude. I suffered because of it every day of my life. Now I die more alone than ever, far from everything and everyone. I wish someone down there could have understood me; maybe someone did, and I didn't realize it.

Don't hate me; I wish I could have been like you.