I’m going to end-up alone. You fear that you’ll end-up by yourself because you’ve been hurt too many times. You are starting to lose faith in good people. You are starting to think that people are just out to get you and that they would rather destroy you than love you, abandon you than stick by your side. You start to evaluate your connections with those around you. And you cannot stop yourself from thinking whether they love or just need you. Your trust issues fill your mind that you have no room for hope.
I’m going to end-up doing something I hate for a living. In the world we live in, we tend to suck-up to shit we don’t like and most definitely disagree with because we are vulnerable to a current situation we are living. We work with selfish assholes, negative and abusive people. The kind of people who are bad for your mental health. When you are just starting your career, you face a lot of unpleasant things because you are viewed as “inexperienced” or “not good enough”. You sure as hell become experienced in being taking for granted, disrespected and underrated. At this limbo state, people treat you so shitty that you start to wonder if you’ll ever find what you deserve. You start to question if you’ll have the chance you’ve been working so hard for. You start to doubt if you’ll ever be seen for the unique, intelligent human you are.
It’s never going to be okay. There was a time when your life was perfect. Everything was normal and you were happy. You start to think that your life will never get close to “okay for now”. Things will always come raining down on you like it was nothing. You won’t have time to recover or get-up. You won’t have chance to reflect and learn because you’ll be busy dealing with whatever you have at hand. You start to wonder if you’ll get a piece of mind. If you’ll ever have a carefree moment or a getaway on the weekend. If you’ll ever get a fucking break, you know.
I’m never going to find real love. The thought of love itself makes you sick. You become allergic to love songs. Your resentment starts building-up so high that you stop craving affection. You stop wanting to be touched. You stop wanting to talk. You stop wanting to spend time with someone or waste your time on the idea of someone. You stop chasing after love. You stop chasing after a train you’ll never catch.
I am replaceable. Deep down, you know you are extraordinary. You have been in the wrong place with the wrong crowd that you can’t help but feel that way. It feels as your words don’t have voice. It feels like your movement doesn’t change things. It feels like if you die, no one would give a fuck. You’ve been treated poorly by those who matter and those who don’t. Your spark is running out. That innocence of yours is gone. You’re an adult now.
Unnoticed. Neglected. Scarred. Wounded. Tamed.