Ok... This post is really long and rambling, but I just needed to get it out. I started my first serious relationship in late '98 my freshman year of college. During Christmas break I fell in love with a girl I went to high school with despite the fact that we were now going to colleges at opposite ends of the country. It was the kind of love where you think you're the only person in the world who's felt that way, and the relationship takes priority over everything else in your life. After our first fight I packed a bag, hopped in my car, and left at 2 a.m. to drive non-stop from Indiana to Arizona just to show her how much she meant to me. At the time I thought this was a grand romantic gesture, but looking back I think it was the first sign that I'm just not cut out for relationships. Eventually she transferred to Purdue where I was going to school, but the relationship went south and we eventually broke up in late 1999 (just over a year after we started going out). I was ok at first, but gradually started slipping into a severe depression over the next several months. I eventually flunked out of school and the depression continued to get worse. I went home for the summer and earned some money working at a factory, then moved back to Purdue at the beginning of the next school year (I had signed a lease on an apartment with 3 other friends prior to finding out I flunked out of school). I had a decent amount of money saved up from my summer job, so I was able to get by without working for some time. Things were bad. As soon as I would turn off the lights and lay in bed my mind would immediately turn to suicide. Being alone with my thoughts was literally unbearable. As a result I would stay up for 2-3 days at a time watching TV or hanging out all night at a 24 hour coffee shop bullshitting with whoever would listen. The goal of this was to keep my mind occupied until I was so tired that I would pass out IMMEDIATELY when my head hit the pillow. I don't think it's possible for someone to grasp this kind of pain unless they've spent an extended period of time on the brink of suicide. I still had money from summer job saved, and was basically just waiting for it to run out. At that point I probably had a little over a month left before I would run out of money. Life was bad enough when it didn't require any effort to continue going, so I sure as shit wasn't going to get a job just so I could prolong the pain. At the time I had an LT1 Camaro, my plan basically consisted of running the car up to around 140 mph and steering it in the general direction of a large solid object. On a particularly bad night I actually went out and picked the spot where I was going to kill myself. I hadn't been home to see my parents in several months. They had grown concerned that I hadn't gotten a job or done much of anything since I moved back down to Purdue and insisted I visit home to have a talk. My parent's house was about a 3 hour drive. I went home during a weekday and arrived at their house just before dinner. Over dinner they expressed their concern and I finally alluded to the fact that I was not doing well. They said they would schedule me a doctor's appointment. My response was something along the lines "yeah, that's fine. I'm gunna head back to Purdue, so just keep me posted". I hopped back in my car and left for Purdue shortly after dinner. I didn't know if I would ever be back again. I made it a couple miles down the road and was within sight of the on-ramp for the interstate when my Camaro died. The car was running perfectly fine, no sputtering, missing, hesitation, anything... then it just died and wouldn't restart. I believe it was a combination of divine intervention and the inferior design of GM's optispark distributor (a bearing in the opti seized up) At that point I was stranded at my parents house, which was probably the best thing that could've happened to me. They got me an appointment with my doctor the next day, who sent me to a shrink, and over the next couple years I was able to eventually get back to semi-normal. This brings us to present day. It's been close to 8 years since I've been in any kind of relationship or even had sex. I've learned to do ok being single and life is decent now. I've been avoiding relationships because I'm terrified of ever having to go through that again. I've actually come to accept the fact that there is a very high likelyhood that I'm going to die alone, as it's a small price to pay to avoid the kind of pain that followed my last relationship. I know the problem is 100% me and the fact that for whatever reason I'm just not wired right to deal with relationships. I also know it's possible I might even be ok now, but I just don't want to take that gamble. My reason for posting this is that all my friends have been harassing me about my perpetual singleness for a while, and I'll generally just make a joke about it or change the subject. I'm not in a big hurry to explain to my friends I'm a giant head case, but I needed to get it out somewhere and this forum offers quite a bit of anonymity.