I’ve been quite lost lately, drifting from one world to the next, not really knowing what to do or what I’d like to do. I daydream a lot and often imagine myself as someone different. It has never bothered me before, but suddenly something feels off. As if I’m missing something.
Maybe I’m just lonely. I haven’t made a ton of friends here in this cold, heartless city. And I’m not sure I will. I miss home. But I’m not sure that’s why I’m getting this feeling. Not sure what the problem is.
I keep feeling like I want to be somewhere else, like I want to do something different. But I can never grasp it.
Throughout my life, I’ve never really been inclined towards socializing. Not in the normal way – calling friends, meeting up, and chatting and texting whilst in the middle of class. Never really thought that anyone would even want to do that with me. Never got close enough to anyone I suppose. It’s probably my own shortcomings in that sense – if I was more open, more extroverted, perhaps I would have realized that sometimes you have to make the first effort to blossom a relationship. Friendship is giving from both sides, never taking. I should’ve known that. I know it’s not too late to make the effort. And I will. As soon as I stop feeling this way. This hollow, indescribable feeling that I thought I was strong enough to suppress.
I think when I was younger, it wasn’t due to a lack of effort. I think I really did try, in my own way. Try to get everyone around me to like me. Try to act like everyone else. I also think, in a complicated way, I was also bullied by the people I trusted most. Not bullying with harmful intents, but “innocent” teasing that little kids like to partake in. And I think that’s when I stopped trusting the offline world.
I started writing a lot back then. In pieces of paper. Journals that I would throw away after writing a couple of entries. It disgusted me. How I felt. The depression. I wanted to appear happy.
And perhaps that’s where I am now.
But I mustn’t think that.
Because when I start to think that, depression will latch on to another piece of hope. Hope of returning into my life. Making it even more difficult to open up to people.
I think what I’d really like right now is a nice, open conversation. It doesn’t even have to be with someone I know well. Someone to talk to about life. Have a discussion filled with respect for each other.
I used to have conversations like that. With strangers on the Internet. But they didn’t feel like strangers to me. They felt like the friends I was lacking all along. And that made me feel like the world was a place worth living in. A beautiful place filled with beautiful people. I still believe that. At least I think I do. I think everyone is beautiful in their own way. And I think I have been forgetting that.
It’s hard to hold such conversations with the people I meet in my everyday life. To hold such a discussion requires trust and respect – something that develops over time, I believe. The type of conversation you would hold with your best friend – as it requires a certain level of intimacy.
I never realized how fortunate I was back when people shared their secrets with me – even though they barely knew who I was.
That was a blessing I never really appreciated and I miss dearly now.
I think someday, I am going to have a friend that I can hold conversations with. I think someday, if I put in the effort and really value the people that I meet, then I can get there. And I hope that when that time comes, I’ll appreciate the comfort and opportunity for what it is.
For now, I need to work on my resolutions. Make myself a better person. And I think my confidence, self esteem, and true happiness will follow.
I feel much better having written all of this down. I feel like there’s hope for me yet. That someday, this hollow indescribable feeling won’t even make me flinch because I’d have the cure right around the corner.