I had a couple of girlfriends when I was a teenager, but once I hit 20 that all stopped. After about 12 years I had a fairly serious breakdown, lost my friends, all of them (as on particular twisted evil bastard plotted and schemed and sat back and laughed), my job, about 120K in savings and probably several times that in potential earnings. Never found any kind of support, except my dad (rip) did once bail me out financially, and a shrink willing to take my money for no discernable help. At best a fairly expensive and motley collection of petty childhood traumas that barely explain anything, except to suggest it must be my fault for not getting over them? At the lowest point I was completely unable even to claim income support, being repeatedly told to my face, that I did NOT EXIST for over three years (yet the council still wants its poll tax) and in many respects started living like an animal (before my family stepped in). Somehow I kept a roof over my head, found a job, paid my dad back, bottled everything up, and sort of pretended to be normal. So many people, apparently everyone, refuse to accept this can happen, so many times they drop in little casual remarks with no idea of the pain they are causing, and all the time the only thing I can think of saying is the one thing I absolutely cannot. Right now I'm staring at a looming milestone of 30 years without sex, love and affection, companionship, or any kind of permission to have any (loving) feelings whatsoever. Almost everything else in my life is just fine - the roof over my head, I can feed and clothe myself, I enjoy time with my (new) friends, even occasionally mentioning this stuff but knowing they have no chance of helping and knowing when to change the subject before things start getting awkward, they also know not to chirp "You'll meet someone"! My health is good, I rarely feel bored, find plenty of things to watch and read, get out and about a reasonable amount, and even mostly enjoy my own company, which is a definate blessing given the situation. I long ago stopped worrying that those repeated thoughts of ending it would ever lead to me trying anything, but back they come, again and again. As they say, I've already been dead 13.8 billion years, and it wasn't all that interesting. Some men never talk to women, which is a different problem, whereas mine is that once I get to know someone, they are just not interested. It took me a very long time to accept that there is just something hideously repulsive about me that no one could ever explain to me, let alone even attempt to fix. I know I have no right to expect to find someone, but knowing that does not stop the yearning. As for that perfect someone - either they would be utterly unable to comprehend who I now am, or so messed up I would run a mile. Perhaps the hardest thing about being so utterly alone is that I have never heard of anyone else suffering this, thousands upon thousands of back-to-back rejections, most fleeting, but a fair few dozen long term emotional investments with zero payback. Not exactly proud of wishing all this on someone else, just so I might feel a little less alone. And last but not least, quite unpleasant indeed, to contemplate the worst scum in all history being far more appealing than me.