Dating

Interaction with people is hard for me. Interaction with attractive females is nearly impossible. I use to fantasize about the "American Dream" of having a beautiful wife I could tell my secrets to but as I grow older I've learned there's no way that can happen. I don't even have the capacity to have a friend who knows about my bloody hunger.
The movies lie about meeting your significant other. I've met all the girls I will ever see here at college. There's not going to be an accidental bumping unto your "soulmate" crap I was promised from the movies and TV shows I used to fill in my gaps of human behavior. Seeing how I've blown any chance at the current crop of women coupled with my antisocial behavior, my chances of having a dual inflatuation with another is astronomical at best. But perhaps two people in "love" (Oh, how much I hate that word) is just another Hollywood bologna I misread as normal or necessary human trait.
Notice how I put emphasis on the two BOTH being in love with each other. It has become a common sight/feeling where  I have engaged with the physical attraction that a few woman have felt for me. This becomes more of a function for me than the need or desire others constantly chase after.  I personally find it a queer activity but more importantly the women are always more open afterwards. It feels like I'm intruding or have gained some trust I didn't do anything to earn. I can't explain it.
Back to dating, my dating history is odd in its own way. It's as if everyone I've dated has their own physiological issues that subconsciously connect with my own psychotic tendencies. Like a lightning rod of dysfunction and issues, these women I've seen as potential wife material get worse when around me. I'll give examples later but I can't ignore the fact the only thing all my physiologically strained exes have in common is me.
Lastly, my entire romantic repertoire is entirely made up what I've seen in movies and TV shows (the biggest being How I Met Your Mother ). This has made many to think I am a romantic but in reality it's more of a bizzaro imitation. Another point is that these mediums don't have the same effect on the real world as they do in their scripted conter-part. I can't help but sense following the scripted doctrine has made me appear creepy, dirty, and gained traits similar to a stalking murdering rapist. I sense many doors that might have been cracked open for me are now bolted shut in fear, anger, and hatred.
With all of the above against me (me being the biggest problem) and the Bloody Hunger I've kept secret by burying inside untill it the unfortunate day it errupts, I've reached my conclusion.  I will never be a father, a husband, or ever reach that dual love crap I thought I always wanted. I'm not safe and I need to stay away. I'm a bigger threat to women then I could ever be a help. With that dream crushed, I lay back watch my friends and family date, purpose, and marry, doing my best to encourage them but also do my best to keep my taint off the intoxicated couple.
I biologically can't stop trying but mentally I'm done. Any girl who is dumb or sweet enough to get near me is someone who deserves better then I can offer.

Inhuman

There are days I feel like I'm not really human. I just can't do normal social things that other people can do. I can't remeber names, no matter what I try. I can't relate to human things like sports or family. Even having conversations is something I can't help but feel I'm not doing right. Everyone's in one big spiderweb but it's woven so wonderfully and expertly it makes no sense to me.
Everything I have in this strange other world is a lie. Wither a spoken or physiological lie. I rely on a confidence I've never had, do acts for the false connection with outsiders I don't really care for, and overall strive forward for God knows what purpose. I find myself constantly estranged and unmotivated using videogames and television to keep my physiologically stable conter-part in control while part of me longs for the warm, syrupy feel of crimson life blood to crawl down my hands. Just the thought gives me a longing hunger I know isn't normal but DAMN does the thought feel good. It's the only time I ever feel warm. I do my best to distract it but I fear for my "correct" self when the day comes that need is finnaly met.

intro and Welcome

   Well, I don't really know know how to do a blog but I'll try my best to write down whatever I judge is important in my life. I've never been the most social, or the most self-concious, or really much of anything positive. I figure if I write down my thoughts online, I could possibly get some feedback, but more likely someone will hear my stories and laugh. So cheers to what will hopefully be a long partnership.
-BFW