The few friends I have keep me tethered here, faint reminders that I’m still supposed to exist. But it’s never enough. I tell myself it’s selfish to want out - they need me too, in their own fragile ways - yet my chest feels like it’s collapsing inward. I tried to fix myself with motion: a new job, transition, new hobbies. I thought change might mean rebirth. But every version of me dies the same quiet death.I’m 22, and I still feel like a lost child wearing borrowed skin. My parents had purpose at my age, I only have passing days. I drift between rooms and screens, watching everyone else move forward like they know where they’re going. I keep thinking I should’ve learned by now how to live, how to want to live.Heartbreak just confirmed the prophecy I’ve always known, that I was never meant for a future. Since middle school, I could feel the rot settling in. No friends. No belonging. Just the dull ache of being tolerated at best, forgotten at worst.Sometimes I wonder why I’m still here. Maybe fear. Maybe habit. I don’t know what waits beyond this, and that uncertainty keeps me breathing. If I knew the ending was gentle, maybe I’d already be gone. But I don’t. So I stay, suspended in the silence between wanting peace and fearing it.I’m sorry. I really did try to love this world, but it never loved me back.
>>41526244you think therefore you probably exist
>>41526244kind of in the same boat. lived my entire life trying to meet other peoples' standards and now i feel like a husk of a person without my own desires or personality
>>41527235real. and once everyone leaves, you realize that you wasted your entire life devoting yourself to people that would discard you if beneficial.
