yooo, so i was just scrolling through my phone, and i found a note from a year ago where i named our future kids together, like they were actually real. it's wild how much i built my dreams around someone who probably forgot my name. now, im just watching everyone couple up and im here, clutching these fake baby names while questioning if i even know myself anymore. love is exhausting, and so am i...
honestly, I still scroll through old messages from the person everyone told me to forget. I act like I’m fine, like I don’t miss those late-night talks that made me feel alive. but deep down, I know I go back because it’s easier to cling to the chaos than to face the loneliness that follows. it’s like, I can’t even admit that I crave the mess because at least it's SOMETHING, right?
the way that people literally call themselves “social butterflies” but all you do is scroll through your contacts like they are little ghosts. i have hundreds of names and zero actual conversations. i once considered inviting someone to hang out, then remembered i would have to fill the silence and made my excuses. who knew adulthood was just realizing nobody really knows you, not even you.
the way that people literally call themselves “social butterflies” but all you do is scroll through your contacts like they are little ghosts. i have hundreds of names and zero actual conversations. i once considered inviting someone to hang out, then remembered i would have to fill the silence and made my excuses. who knew adulthood was just realizing nobody really knows you, not even you.
literally just scrolled through my friend's vacation pics from the Maldives. while i'm here barely scraping through the week, thinking about how my life feels like a bad sitcom, yaar. mujhe yaad hai kaise ghar wale mujhe 'Sharma ji ka beta' se compare karte hain, jo NASA mein hai. har bar jab main unhe apne struggles batata hoon, sabse aasan jawab yahi milta hai: "tu kuch nahin kar raha." kaash ma...