Realization

In that moment of time, she realized that she had loved more than she was ever loved. She gave more than she took. She listened more than she expressed. She comforted people more than she ever comfort herself. 

Funny, because she never realized that the kindness she gave was never properly returned. Her feelings were always taken for granted. She blinded herself with the thought if she was kind enough, people would give them to her in return. But the world doesn't work like this anymore. The world is filled with absolute deceptions and lies. The world is filled with countless of things to exhaust you, and to bring you down. The world is as mean as it gets.

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Coming to college, I feel like the people who once loved me are drifting away and I'm slowly becoming an invisible, uncritical presence to them. The friendship I have with my college friends are so shallow. They do not bother wishing me all the best for my driving exam or asking me how was it. They do not bother asking me if I was okay when my eyes were bloodshot red. They do not bother looking out for me whenever they see me alone. Simply said, they simply do not bother at all.

It has become a routine, something not-so out of the norm anymore for me to come home with no one to talk to, with no listeners to hear me out. Everyday has now turned dead cold where I just simply bottle up my feelings because so often, it feels like nobody loves me enough to ask me how was my day. Or maybe I love them too much to tell them the truth.

My best friends are going on about how great their college life is becoming and all the awesome things coming their way, and all I could say was that I was happy for them. My sister continuously talks about how exhausted and stressed out she is in university, and all I could say are words of encouragement. My mum constantly worries for me, and all I could say are the superficial sides of my day, not the real truth that I truly dislike my college life. 

For certain reasons, I feel like my privileges to speak has been sealed. As soon as I want to tell them, my story just becomes a thousand words away from my quivering lips. I just wish I had someone to run to whenever I feel like telling my stories, someone who isn't tired of listening to me, someone who sincerely cares for me, someone who feels like my emotional welfare truly matters to them. 

Because when was the last time I was truly loved? When was the last time someone actually heard me out? 

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Okay, maybe these midnight thoughts are not making any sense at all. I should just go to sleep.