Oh my my, my disease.

No, i'm not talking about syphilis. I'm talking about what i think I have. A disease of the personality. I haven't really noticed it until recently, but after i did its become a very prominent issue in my life. I think I'll call it my Dependability Complex.

So here's the issue. You see, at all times, I feel as if I need someone to depend on me. Not like in a "hey can you get the groceries for me" kind of dependability. I mean in an "I love you and I don't know what I'd do without you" kind of way. I'm not just talking about girls though. My friends help keep this problem from arising as well.

My best friend for instead. Let's call him James. That's not his real name, by the way. That's why I said "let's call him" before stating the name. In case you missed that.

James is my best friend ever. Like you know, tell each other everything, always hang out, inside jokes for everything kinda best friend. He is honestly like my main source of happiness. I feel like his brother, but at the same time, his father. He listens to me and does what I say. I don't mean I boss him around or anything. But if i tell him drugs and drinking are bad, he'll have the same viewpoint. If I'm straight-edge, so is he. if i started smoking, he probably would too. If your friends wanted to jump off a bridge, would you do it too? He would. Just to be like me.

But you see, James has depression issues that I can't help him with. Because i don't have a vagina. He's a hopeless romantic, who leaps at the chance to be with a girl he barely knows if she's the slightest bit nice to him. And therein lies the problem with his depression. If she doesn't like him or do what he wants, he threatens to kill himself. Only thing is, he doesn't puss out. He'd actually do it.

The reason I bring this up is because recently, he tried to commit suicide and failed, but was sent away to a psychiatric hospital. Again. Now, remember what I said about him. And my disease. If he's not around, I have no one to be my best friend, or depend on me. So this feeling comes around.

This feeling is one of emptiness, living my life as a hollow shell of who I am. My life could be perfect but would be miserable. I don't understand why this happens. Who knows. Maybe something really is wrong with me.