This is my little rant about my lifeeeeeeee, and I've had this on a Word doc for like 2 months now and thought I should do something with it. So, this is just kind of a rant...? Idk, read it only if you want, and maybe offer some support. Also, yes, it is in 2nd person, idk why I wrote it like that :P It’s like living behind glass, watching everyone else move through life with ease, while you’re just a faint reflection flickering at the edges—unseen, unheard, unnoticed. You try to blend in, to follow the rules, to be what’s expected, but there’s always something inside you pressing against the walls, wanting out. You smile when you’re supposed to, nod along, laugh at the right times, but underneath it all, there’s a steady ache, a quiet longing to be seen for who you really are, not just the mask you wear. You carry something inside, a part of yourself you’re sure no one could accept, maybe not even you. So you tuck it away, lock it up, hope nobody notices the cracks where it tries to shine through. You hear the words—spoken or unspoken—about how you should be, what’s right, what’s wrong, and you fold yourself smaller and smaller, hoping that if you’re careful enough, obedient enough, maybe you’ll finally fit. But the ache doesn’t go away. It sits heavy in your chest, a silent question you’re too afraid to ask, a longing you’re too scared to name, because what if naming it means losing everything? So you keep quiet. You move through the days, the weeks, the rituals of life, hoping someone will look past the surface, hoping someone will care enough to really see you. But most of the time, you feel like a ghost—present but not really there, loved but never fully known, surrounded but profoundly alone. You wonder if it’s always going to be this way: hiding, shrinking, aching for someone to say, “I see you. You matter. You’re not alone.”
This is an introspective literary prose about some struggles I'm going through ATM.
