Is this what I'm reduced to?

I imploded my relationship with Lesa, if you can call what we had a relationship. We'd never talked on the phone or seen each other in 39 plus years. But all the "I love yous" and such seemed to indicate that something was there. 

Then I asked about the possibility of some kind of future time when she'd bring me out into the open, tell her best friend about me and so on. What I got was an "I'm not ready." Not a yes or a no. 

So, I went on and on pressing the matter, as I am wont to do. And now I've said things that can't let us return to the happy state of just not knowing what the future might bring but being hopeful about it. 

When you put so many eggs in the basket, and the basket gets dropped, that's it. You just lose hope altogether of anything ever working out. I pushed for too much, and now I'm left with nothing. And so much of my core was invested, I'm back before square one. I'm locked outside of a gate, with square one hidden even from view.

I wanna scream, but I'm too exhausted. I want to cry, but that's played out. 

I want to try to explain myself, even just in this stupid blog, like that is going to make a difference to anyone or anything, but I'm too exhausted to even start. I'd have to go through pages and pages of online conversations that I had with Lesa just to catch this dumb blog up to speed on how I even arrived at the place of hopefulness that I did. 

What I've shared on here has been incomplete, as I spent all of my mental capacity on the conversation I was having with her. I must have been somewhat charming to have elicited such emotions, even if they turned out to be an illusion.

Now everything seems lifeless and empty. I'm contemplating just how I can commit suicide by inactivity. I never want to move again. I'm just tired. And life seems so pointless. You gain and you lose. In the end, who knows? You get swallowed up by death, and maybe you come back or continue, and maybe you don't. "Signs point to no," as the Magic 8 Ball would say. 

And my level of pessimism will surely create just another hell for me anyway, should the universe turn out to be a subjective manifestation of my pathetic inner consciousness. Why, why, why do I exist? The joke part I don't get, the cruel part, sure. Life is cruel. What else is there? I'm falling so deep into my own negative thinking that I can't believe anything anymore.

My LED is trying to tell me otherwise. Blinking on and off to get my attention. Why can't Sharon speak to me some other way? I don't understand the intermittent, seemingly random operation of an electrical device as a language. 

I need to do something different. Sitting around here will kill me, as surely as a bullet. Just not as quickly. I'm ready, though. I've lived and suffered enough. The rest is just bullshit. All my talking, my relationships, my persona--all bullshit. I was as real as I could have ever been with Lesa. It turns out, she wasn't really being real with me. Or so it would appear. I'm just too stupid and damaged to be in a relationship anyway; who was I fooling?