it’s three a.m. and my family found my secret social media account. they don’t get why I post about gaming, or why it feels like home when I lose myself in virtual worlds. now I have to explain why staring at screens fills this empty space inside me that I thought only love could fill. I wanted to share my passions, not defend them, and now I’m just lonely, hoping they’ll understand why the pixels...
my family keeps asking about my ex, you know, the one they loved way more than my current partner, and i'm just here like, why can’t you all see that love is blind, but so is your judgment? i swear if i hear "remember how happy you were with them" one more time, i might just lose it. it's like i’m supposed to explain why i'm still holding onto the scraps of my dignity while they reminisce about so...
it’s not that my friends think I’m annoying—it's just that I have a unique charm. they obviously love my quirkiness, right? it’s definitely not because they all secretly group text about how exhausting I am—oh wait, that just slipped out.
it’s not that my friends think I’m annoying—it's just that I have a unique charm. they obviously love my quirkiness, right? it’s definitely not because they all secretly group text about how exhausting I am—oh wait, that just slipped out.
tennis scores today are just a reminder that i keep losing matches in my own life. I watch these players face intense pressure while my own friends slip further away. every "how are you?" feels empty, like they don't even know who i really am anymore. I scroll through my contacts, seeing names of people who wouldn't recognize my voice if i called. it hits different when you realize the crowd is ju...