#also adore ashu yuta from b pros thrive thank you hot milk

[nevermore-unknown]

I feel lost. Like I’m trapped in this dark space. I don’t really know how to go about this. Sometimes I wish I knew how I really felt. Instead of feeling stuck in this place I don’t fully comprehend. Stuck in past mistakes and regrets. I think I just want people to chat with. I lost my group of friends, and nothing hurts me more, knowing I might never have a group of friends to hang out with again. I’ll never be a part of group chats, or hangouts, sleepovers, and travels. I guess it’s not like we’ve had a lot of hangouts though. I feel like I wanted to do something with friends but it never really happened. I feel like they only started hanging out places when I left, which made me unbelievably sad, so much so that my sadness was only shown through frustration. I know that it was years ago, and they all probably moved on and are genuinely happy without me, but no matter how much time has passed, to me, that time never feels that far away.

I know I probably wasn’t a great friend, but holy shit, I feel like I tried to be. I’m such a people pleaser. I would do so much for my friends if they asked. I stayed after school even when I didn’t have any classes, just to ride the bus with them. I talked about deep conversations and things that made me upset or sad. I guess I never realized that maybe I had talked too much. That maybe all my negative emotions and thoughts should have stayed with me. And even if I wasn’t meant to take it that way, I did feel, after reading a certain letter, as though because I spoke about my problems so often, that I brought the group down every time I opened up. I don’t really know what to say to that honestly. I suppose I don’t remember complaining so much that it could be seen as a problem. But I only have one view, and I can’t see from their perspective. Now I can say I complain a lot though.

I feel so bitter. In high school I felt like I was a really bad person. I hated myself so much and thought so little of me that I wanted to end myself. I only ever told one of my friends, of course when some time had passed. I fought with my family and was called a bitch often by them that maybe I just believed them so much that it came to be. Maybe I just really was one and that was that. Looking back to how I used to be made me realize that I wasn’t even that bad of a person. I just internally thought so, and therefore I believed it was true. Now though, I really do believe I’m a terrible person.

All the people I lost, all the words said to me and said from me, I feel like a bad person. I don’t feel good. I just don’t feel good. I really don’t want to be such a horrible person but I can’t change who I’ve been. I can’t change how I have interacted with others in the past. And I know people say that if you’re scared to be a horrible person, clearly you care and that means you’re not necessarily one, but that doesn’t help me. That doesn’t change the fact that I still believe I’m this awful, fake person hurting people I’m supposed to care about.

I lost people that probably didn’t even know they meant so much to me. I was so upset, and hurt, and frustrated from not feeling like my voice mattered and nobody really cared that I lashed out in desperation and lost them all. I may not know what familial love feels like, but I know what I thought good friendships felt like, and I know that when I lost that, I lost it forever. I’ll never be forgiven if that’s even the right word to use.

I can write down all these thoughts but I still feel so distant. Distant from what, somehow it feels like everything. It’s all so faded and I don’t truly know what to do. I can’t erase anything but if I could, I would have just kept my mouth shut and continued to be friends with the only people I thought would stay with me a little longer.

Maybe one day I’ll create another blog so I don’t have to occasionally bother this one with useless thoughts and words that only make sense to me. I have someone on here I know irl. I would rather this blog not be shared so but who knows if they’ll even see this. Who knows if anyone will actually see or read this. It is quite wordy, and about a person you won’t ever care about. Maybe this blog and its occupant were meant to speak to the void and wait for an echo back that will never be.