So my problem now is intimacy.

This is the prognosis of my therapist, who last week pointed out to me that I have no friends. He asked me to tell him about my friends, but before I could answer, he defined a friend as someone to whom I was emotionally close, and not just someone I hang out with. In that manner, he defined away the answer.

I conceded that, if he was going to get semantic about it, I really had no friends. Hey, the plan is that I'm trying to feel better about myself- letting anyone close to me seems like a certain way to screw up that plan. But he's the doctor and I try to take his suggestions, so I indicated to him that I would take the "close friend" issue under advisement, brainstorm on it a little bit, and see what I could come up with.

But he continued to push the whole intimacy thing by asking me when I last had a serious relationship with a woman.

I'm thirty-five years old, unemployed, I live with my parents, and I look like the Noid. There's no need to ask me when I last had a serious relationship. The answer is as obvious as the answer to, "What color is the blue sky?" or "What is the sum of 2 + 2?" or "Who buried Paul?" My actual answer was fourteen years ago- and that's using a very loose understanding of what qualifies as a "serious relationship."

Apparently, my therapist believes that I'd be a happier person if I talked to people about my feelings and stuff. Because what's the point of being a failure if you can't tell people about it? Or something like that. An online diary is my compromise on the issue. I'll have some safe virtual intimacy with virtual close friends.

Aren't you lucky.