Single, sad and desperate for help.

Four years ago, I split up from the love of my life. He and I were planning to settle down, get the house, get the dogs, swap the rings and the rest of it. It all fell apart and our futures split from one another. His led to many romantic entanglements, screwing around a bit, dating a bit, finding the perfect man (who is in every way superior to me) and eventually marrying him. Added to this he also has his dream job and has accomplished everything we ever talked about. Imagine the ultimate end to every "it gets better" dream that any struggling LGBT person has ever had, he has the whole package. He deserves it, he's wonderful.

Aside from leaving college with a relatively good degree, my life is much as it was when we split up. I am still desperately trying to break into the industry for which I trained but this professional frustration pales in comparison to what is really wrong with my life.

I have been alone for four (rapidly approaching five) years without even the most remote chance of being complete. While I have been actively looking for a boyfriend, an occasional date or even just being tossed a "pity fuck", none of my attempts have been successful. This in turn leads to me asking the same questions. Is it my personality? Is it my grotesque, flabby appearance? Am I just unlikable? Am I just not programmed to fit in with LGBT people? I keep going round and round like a grizzly carousel wondering why every other gay man I know and have ever met is either happily settled down or having too much "fun" to care.

At 27 I can start to see the rest of my life stretching out in front of my flabby reach. My life up until this point is best exemplified by what happens every time I venture out on the gay scene... 3am arrives, the lights come up, I'm surrounded by established, newly emerging or one-time couples with only the lukewarm kiss of my beer to show me any companionship. While my fellow social, romantic and sexual inadequates may travel in different carriages, we all arrive at the same terminus and it is this destination that chills me. I can see myself as an old man, pint in hand, propping up the bar and being soaked for drinks by the young twinks I lust after (as I do now) with no remorse or possibility of even a "pity fuck". I can see myself leaving the clubs and pubs alone as I do now but with a series of "sorry, we couldn't make it" text messages from what friends I have left replacing the dribble of social companionship I currently have. Eventually, the morning will come which I do not see. I would just hope for one more "I love you" between then and now... no matter how insincere.

I despise my own appearance, I despise my own romantic incompetence and I am consumed by envy for "those guys". Y'know what I mean. Those guys with the slim waists, angelic faces, perfect proportions, a big social circle and a romantic history to match. My hatred is not their fault of course, the fact that their lives are so wonderful and devoid of the misery that stalks mine every step of the way cannot be pinned on them. They go blissfully, and luckily, through their day not knowing such pain and loneliness. I only hate them because I am envious of them.

These feelings have gone on for years and until I have someone to show me that I'm worth a tuppeny fuck they will probably continue. Perhaps I need a hug.