Lately, I feel like life is playing a cruel joke on me. One by one, my friends have drifted away, each leaving a small tear in the fabric of my life.
My last close friend just moved away too. Six years together—hanging out, grabbing late-night snacks, wasting time in the best possible way. Now he’s gone, and it feels like the last bit of my world just slipped out the door with him.
I try to tell myself it’s fine, that I’ll find new people, but then I sit in my empty room, and the silence feels so loud it almost hurts. I’m not sure if it’s loneliness or just the echo of everything I’ve lost, but it presses down on me.
Every day feels like it’s stretching longer and longer, like I’m just walking through this haze, watching everyone move on while I’m stuck here.
Sometimes, I wonder if it’s me. Is everyone leaving because I’m not enough? Or because I want more from life, because I’m trying to grow, to be someone better? It’s a bitter thought—wondering if wanting to be more somehow makes me less, or if I’m too much and people can’t handle it.
Or maybe this is just it. Maybe I’m supposed to live in the background, someone who lives quietly, cries quietly, eats alone, and goes through life as though I don’t really belong anywhere. Sometimes, I feel like I’m meant to be forgotten, like I’m already disappearing, fading bit by bit into some anonymous blur that no one will remember.
And I can’t help but wonder… is this really my life now? Is this what I’ve become?
— Rahul
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