I'm looking Back

Times are moving fast. I'm having trouble understanding my suffering. I remember those I’ve hurt more than those I’ve helped. I am only human. So I ask myself: Am I truly suffering?

I feel unable to love. It’s hard to explain, but I’m numb to it. Yes, there are a few people I love, but sometimes I ask myself—if I truly loved them, would I have left them behind?

I should have stayed home and helped my mother with my siblings. They are older now, and I missed those vital moments of their lives. My best friend—I lost him. A few days before he passed, he reached out to me. He needed help, but I didn’t even ask if he was okay. I regret that moment to this day. My partner now also feels the weight of my internal conflict.

I am a selfish person. I know that. I was raised on my own and had to rely on myself for company. My mother was always working, and my father never understood me. Still, I carried a big dream and a large imagination.

I don’t think I love myself. I love the idea of me, but I’m not happy with who I am.

I have a lot of work to do—but that’s okay, I guess.