I Don't Know

I don’t even know how to start this, so I’ll just be honest.

I feel wrecked. Not in a dramatic way, just… worn down like something that’s been hit too many times and never repaired. At the end of the day, there’s no one asking how I am, no one checking in, no one to sit with the silence and make it feel lighter.

The loneliness I feel isn’t loud. It doesn’t scream or break things. It just stays. Quiet. Constant. Like something sitting in the corner of the room, watching, never leaving.

I think what hurts most is the absence of my someone. Someone who gets how heavy it feels. Someone who remains when the room feels empty and my heart feels like it’s breaking in ways I can’t explain.

Nights are the hardest. Sleep doesn’t really come. My body feels tired, but my mind won’t rest. It’s like I’m stuck in between being awake and being gone, and neither feels right.

Being alone is one thing. Being forgotten is something else entirely. I’ve felt both, and they don’t feel the same.

I’ve known love, but it came fast and left marks. The kind that doesn’t show on the outside but burns on the inside. Every conversation, every memory, it’s like touching fire. And sometimes it burns so much that I catch myself thinking maybe not feeling anything at all would be easier.

But then… somehow, hope still finds its way back. Even in small moments. Even when I don’t expect it.

I remember when life felt different. When the house was loud, when things felt alive. Now it’s quiet, and I don’t cry, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. The ache is still there, just sitting deeper.

Loneliness has changed for me. It’s not just about being alone anymore. It’s about feeling like I don’t have enough to give. And that thought follows me everywhere.

Still, I keep going. Even when I don’t fully understand why. Even when everything around me feels like it’s shifting and I’m just trying to keep up.

Maybe I’m still here because a part of me believes something can change. Maybe I’m still here because I haven’t given up completely, even if it feels close sometimes.

I don’t need everything to be fixed. I just wish someone would stay long enough to see me, to hear me, to understand this part of me that I don’t always know how to explain.

That’s all.