Nil Value

I'm not much. I understand that, and to be honest, I even embrace it to some extent; if I'm not worth much, then how I can be disappointed when I don't get much? If I'm not useful, how can I criticize uselessness? If I'm nothing, how can I be anything but ecstatic at the prospect of something?
I've already alluded to what caused me to feel this worthless. I've a rather uncaring family full of rather insulting individuals, and I've spent my life as the penultimate display of schadenfreude- I've been the butt of jokes, the subject of ridicule, and object of disgust for so many people, I've forgotten what it's like to have a reason beyond self-depreciation.
So, I have to ask. And I know that no one actually reads this, so I don't expect an answer, but I still need to pose the question... Why am I here? What do I matter? And how is it that I constantly seem to find myself in the same situation? How is it that every time I put myself out there to look for something to give me a reason to continue on with this miserable, hum-drum life of mine, it seems as if the Cosmos is intent on proving to me that I'm even more useless and inconsequential than I feel?

I'm better for you than he is, whoever you and he are. I'm better because, no matter what, he's going to end up treating you like shit. It's unavoidable human nature; we take commonalities for granted, and I assure you that one day, and one day soon, he'll find you a commonality. But I won't, because I can't. I've resigned myself to living out the rest of my days alone, which is a horribly depressing thing for an eighteen year old to accept- but it means that I would bequeath you with whatever I could to keep you happy, it means that I would do anything to make you mine... but you don't seem to care, because I'm not him. I'm not anything that you think you need. I'm not anything at all.