it’s 3am and I am wide awake, wondering if my plants are silently judging me for forgetting to water them again. day 14 of pretending I know how to keep these green things alive while actually trying to remember which credit card has room left for groceries. my life looks polished on the outside, but inside, it's just an endless game of "which bill can I ignore this month?" and oh, how I can feel ...
...and just like that, I’m scrolling through old messages, imagining the conversations I won’t have again. You know that feeling when everyone around you is falling in love? And I’m just here, building hypothetical lives where I’m thriving with someone who actually gets me? My mind's in this delusional spiral, contemplating who I could have become if I’d held onto you tighter. Maybe I’m just suppo...
it’s day 22 of planning my wedding to a stranger whose name I didn’t even ask—but here we are, making color palettes like they matter, trying to impress family that I swear doesn't understand my heart at all. every gathering is a barrage of questions—“when will you settle down?” “look at your cousin—she’s already got three!” it’s like they can smell my anxiety and then pin it to the wall with their expectations, while I try not to crumble under the weight of it all—am I really this unworthy of being just me? sometimes I want to scream that the fairy tale is built on messy dreams and starlit fantasies, not the crushing fear of disappointing those who raised me.
it’s day 22 of planning my wedding to a stranger whose name I didn’t even ask—but here we are, making color palettes like they matter, trying to impress family that I swear doesn't understand my heart at all. every gathering is a barrage of questions—“when will you settle down?” “look at your cousin—she’s already got three!” it’s like they can smell my anxiety and then pin it to the wall with their expectations, while I try not to crumble under the weight of it all—am I really this unworthy of being just me? sometimes I want to scream that the fairy tale is built on messy dreams and starlit fantasies, not the crushing fear of disappointing those who raised me.
sometimes I sit down to clean my room and end up on the floor surrounded by piles of stuff I dont even remember owning. I keep thinking about the person I ghosted, imagining how they might actually have made me feel less overwhelmed. instead, I just shut down and let silence do the talking. a simple text felt like a whole novel I wasn’t ready to write. #everydaychaos #relatabletruths