I feel trapped. And I don’t know why. It’s not like I actively wanted it. I didn’t seek it out. That’s my fault, but I feel strangely empty. Always wanting, but never confidant enough to go.
But now I am. And I wish I didn’t waste the past year of my life being insecure and worried about what others think. I want to be happy for once. I want to be the one smiling. I want to be the one asking for advice because that means we are working. We are in a place where we want to improve. But for now, that place is so far off.
I don’t necessarily know why I want to get there so badly, but every piece of me wants to be there. Happiness. I want to be happy so badly. And I want to make myself happy without you. But for the past few weeks I have been consumed. Consumed by the thought of you — knowing you’re happy and knowing we can’t work. But thinking we can.
So in this delusion I am stuck. Paralyzed by indecision and regret. The regret hits me over and over again and I think of all the other things I could have done. Appreciated. Reached out. Been a friend. But instead I was cold. Lonely. Insecure.
And you got happy. And you became secure. You are now Them. They are happy. Together. Is that what kills me? I think I just want to be in the Them. And turn the Them into a We. We could be happy. And it’s my fault that We aren’t. It’s not that We aren’t. It’s that we aren’t We.