this is probably self-loathing

lonely. alone. the words have become synonymous to me, though they weren't always. back to being alone again in my apartment. roommate moved out yesterday. guess I have to name him now. let's call him troy. good ole troy-boy.
he chose yesterday to move out because chick came to see me. last time chick and I hung out was new year's, when troy overheard us having sex. sex is a problem for me, I guess. it always has been. it's how I've gauged my self-esteem. it's stupid. I don't really do that anymore. but that's not what things were like for chick and I, nor for troy and I. so let's change that to past tense. sex is how I used to gauge my self-esteem. now I think I do it for comfort and to get out of my head for a couple minutes. it's still a little self-destructive for me. but is it as bad as drinking? is it as bad as cutting? is it as bad as sleep-deprivation? I don't think so. at least I know the people that I sleep with. it isn't strangers and one-night-stands. I've only been sleeping with friends. and with troy, it was always sober.
so troy moved out yesterday. no warning. I was relieved, actually. I feel less relieved right now, because I'm alone, and my other roommate (you know, the one I've probably never mentioned) isn't here. she's rarely here. I saw her for about 30 seconds today. when she's home, she's in her room. I hate it. if I had someone else to take her place, I'd ask her to move out. she's nice, but I hate being left alone. I hate it. I hate being left behind. I hate feeling like nothing.
but really, who likes that?
maybe not everyone has the opportunity to know how that feels. maybe people put themselves in those positions. maybe that's what I've done. I don't know. my sister thinks I think too much. I think I'm alone too much. but I'm not willing to do enough about it. I just expect someone to swoop in and save me. there is no one to save me. I know.
I still miss shiny.
I don't really miss my roommate. I just miss having someone around. and I feel really awful for my cat. she loved troy. he was home a lot, and he played with her, and she cuddled with him at night. she was so content. she was so happy. she stopped crying. she stopped being neurotic. now what?
I hate how much I can relate to that. you get used to someone, you think they're staying, and then they're just gone with a shitty explanation. and how can you explain to a cat, anyway? how can you say, "it isn't you, it's me?" so that she'll understand?
I don't know. I told her again that I would never leave her. I told her again that I will always return. I hope that I'm not lying.
my old roommate, the one that bought Luca with me, hasn't been back to see Luca once. Hasn't written. hasn't called. nothing.
I hate this horrible, stupid world. I hate how heartless people are. and I hate that I let them be that way. I hate that I let myself be heartless too.
I hate that I keep expecting things to change without my actually doing anything to change them.
I stress myself out. I wish I could just relax. I'd get more done that way.