i looked in the mirror this morning and i swear i saw my parents' faces flickering back at me, judging my choices. why is it that everyone else is securing dream jobs and Instagrammable life moments while i can't even decide if i want cereal or a cup of regret for breakfast? like, is there a secret manual out there that everyone got but me, or are we all just playing pretend and hoping nobody noti...
I tell everyone I have moved on—no one knows I still sleep with the teddy bear he gave me, the one that's frayed around the edges. I walk around with a smile, while my dreams are haunted by the day I let him go. I laugh at my own jokes, but deep down—I'm still waiting for him to laugh too. At night, I replay every word, every mistake, as if I could rewrite our story. The truth is, I pretend I am f...
i looked in the mirror today and instead of seeing my tired eyes, i saw my parents staring back. it hit me. this isn't about breakups or love lost; it’s about realizing my whole identity was basically a collage made of someone else's image. everyone else is out there pairing up, sharing all their little inside jokes, while i sit alone and wonder if my other half has just been buried under layers of compromise. oh my god, my parents had each other through everything. what do i get? just me, an awkward shadow, holding a half-eaten snack and crying over a pasta commercial like it’s a Greek tragedy.
i looked in the mirror today and instead of seeing my tired eyes, i saw my parents staring back. it hit me. this isn't about breakups or love lost; it’s about realizing my whole identity was basically a collage made of someone else's image. everyone else is out there pairing up, sharing all their little inside jokes, while i sit alone and wonder if my other half has just been buried under layers of compromise. oh my god, my parents had each other through everything. what do i get? just me, an awkward shadow, holding a half-eaten snack and crying over a pasta commercial like it’s a Greek tragedy.
day 47 of watching people talk about this IFCI rise like it’s the second coming. meanwhile, i’m over here letting my roommate take the heat for a broken vase that i accidentally smashed during my third attempt at a TikTok dance—let's just say my rhythm is non-existent. they’re just on a Zoom call, catching all the blame while i’m lowkey sweating bullets, pretending my phone's battery is dead. it's...