And then there was one.

All I have tried to do for the past few years is to be a good person. By 'good person' I don't mean the Christian-influenced, super-law-abiding, or ass-kissing type, I just mean an honest, true person who is willing to give everyone a chance. If someone is good to me, I'll be good to them. That sort of thing. But it seems now that this has gotten me in a bind- I've given too many chances, I've simply been too nice. And I have gotten nothing out of it, except heartbreak. I've lost again.


   I have answered my phone to someone needing to talk at 3am when I had to be at work at 8am. I have dropped what I was doing to be with someone who called me to say that they just didn't want to be alone. I have sat and listened to someone go on and on about things they couldn't change and things they shouldn't even want to change, and tried to encourage them the best I can through the situation, without mentioning the things that I could have really used some help with. I have stopped someone from smashing someone else over the head with a pool cue due to drunken emotion/pride/leftover anger that wasn't worth it. I have let people cry on my shoulder and get snot all over me and not said a word about it. I have passed up the opportunity for personal pleasure/possible date in order to make sure an overly intoxicated aquaintence got home safely. I have become close to such an aquaintence when they felt they had no one else to go to. I have let people crash at my house so that they didn't drive home/walk alone drunk. I have sat and listened to people lament about having no one, while in my head deciding whether I should remind them that at that moment I am there with them or thank them for letting me know that to them I am 'no one'. I have declined rides home to walk with others after bar closing hours, or at least arranged to do so (only to be left alone later on when they found another way home). I have allowed myself to be emotionally abused, screamed at for no reason, called horrible undeserved names, deserted, left behind from the crowd, lied to, made fun of, picked on, and exposed (in the case of the few people I've opened up to and shared private things with) and embarrassed in front of my group of 'friends'. And I've always forgiven those people and not thrown it back in their faces and just tried to make sure that they were O.K.
  
So where are all these people now? Gone, of course. Well, most of them are still here. But not really involved with me anymore. They got what they needed from me; a drinking buddy, a sorrows dumpster, a warm body to be around. And then when they got back on their feet, met some new friends, regained their confidence- they kicked me to the curb. I played the part of interim confidant. But I never seem to be good enough to keep around once things are better. Why am I only good enough to pick them up out of the wet gutters, but not to walk with them through the sunny gardens?

   What sucks most about this situation, this whole 'I'm-your-friend-when-I'm-in-need-but-not-after' situation is, who am I supposed to go to when I need a lift? Who is going to be there when I need to call someone at 3am? Or when I need someone to be sure I get home safely? Or when I simply can't stand to be alone anymore and just need someone to be there with me?
  
Once I've gotten done doing my good duty and raising up everyone else, I find that I am standing in the sinkhole alone. And there isn't anyone around to throw me the rope and pull me out.

   I just don't know what to do anymore.