Admitting that I often feel lonely has always been challenging for me. I am a complete introvert, and I genuinely prefer my own company to that of others. I would rather stay in my room than constantly be out and about. I find solace in silence, the comfort of reading a book, and escaping into my own little world. Indeed, I would much rather send you a message than engage in a phone call. But that doesn’t diminish the fact that I’m human. Perhaps I struggle with conversations due to my introverted nature. My difficulty in engaging in small talk may make me appear distant. But sometimes, I yearn for human interaction, attention, a pleasant conversation, a good laugh, and someone to share time with—someone who is present. Is it really that difficult to wish for? I tend to stay within smaller circles of people, often finding myself in places that feel distant from them. Months of being confined to the house take a toll on me. All I do is write to myself. Some of those were filled with questions, while others were silent cries of despair. Yet, a few, in some way, concluded with a sense of hope.
Dear Me,
Sometimes, I wish things were different.
Not just sometimes, most of the time, I find myself contemplating the “what ifs.”
What if I hadn’t made this choice — would I still be here?
What if I had taken a stand — would I be happier?
There are so many of these thoughts.
And while I know I have so much to be grateful for, certain events still feel overwhelmingly heavy, making it seem nearly impossible to move forward.
Will I ever overcome this?
Dear Me,
Is it odd to feel alone around a bunch of people?
Does it make me different?
I’m in the middle of a crowd, so much noise, so many types of people.
Fascinating.
Yet, in the midst of it all, I only hear silence.
In the middle of the bustle, it’s just… loneliness.
Every footstep I take, pushing my way through,
Every drop of sweat under the scorching sun,
It all seems unnecessary to me.
When being out feels no different from staying in, what’s the point?
Not always.
But sometimes.
And during those “sometimes”, it’s nothing short of intense.
My soul almost feels exhausted.
Strange.
Dear Me,
I miss them.
I definitely miss them more than I can admit.
I miss the way I was around them.
Actually, I think I miss the way they were around me.
Being miles apart brings a sadness in me, a pain in my chest.
Sleepless nights have become a frequent visitor.
I think I would give anything,
No, I know I would give anything,
Just to spend a moment in the same room as them, in front of them, watching them smile.
The world can be a cruel place, but I see my hope in them.
Oh, what I’d do for one last goodbye.
Dear Me,
I know you’re doing your best.
I know it’s difficult, not to compare,
Not to notice that everyone around you seems to have found their place.
But you… you just feel confused.
What does the universe have to offer you?
What can you offer this universe?
Tears are filling up. Everything is blurry.
Why are you crying?
I know you wish you knew the answer.
Complicated, aren’t we?
Sometimes, this feeling of being useless,
This feeling that comes when someone jokes about you being stupid,
Even though you know it’s a joke,
Even though you know it’s not true,
Still, it breaks a piece inside.
Will these pieces ever stop breaking? Will the sense of belonging ever come?
Will this empty hole in your chest ever close?
These notes do not define me. They are merely moments, fleeting, fragile, and human. I may experience questions, doubts, and days that feel heavier than others, but these do not diminish who I am becoming. I am still here, still trying, and still growing. For that, I am proud of myself.
