Twenty Eight
I don't know how to talk to people anymore. Used to be that I could spend hours, explaining the inner torments of my mind, being excited for things, wanting things, having hope. Now it feels like it's been a cold winter for the past few years. I keep telling myself that this is what I want, that this is okay but I can't even feel like I'm living anymore. I bury my desires, my fears, my regrets and my hopes so deep down that even I don't know they're there sometimes. I had expected things to change a little bit for the better after I moved but now I find myself getting worse and worse. This decade has shown me many things about myself that I cannot seem to shake off. Ideas of myself, my belief in myself. I find that each day I vividly see and acknowledge the things that are wrong with me and still find myself unable to do anything about it. Life is suddenly extremely boring and there are no exciting days. Sometimes I truly believe that maybe it's me that's boring. Then I spend a day, once or twice a year that proves otherwise and life, even if very briefly, seems as if it's reaching out. And then the day ends. Each time I am left with less and less. I fear I'm getting close to the day where nothing will remain. I don't know what will happen then but I still fear it. I regret how some things happened and how some things ended. I like to think that there is someone in my head and it's not me. It's my birthday today. I'm 28 and all I could think about on the ride back home was that how fucking depressed I was. Some of it's been my doing and some of it is just life. Then the drizzling turns into a downpour and my tears are indistinguishable from the drops of rain.
I don't know how to connect anymore.
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