BOO! TOMATO!
I wonder all the time if this feeling is just a part of me, not just a temporary feeling, but a constant and permanent state of my being. I always hope itās a visitor passing through, but Iām starting to believe that it is a permanent resident in my life. I was born with it, and I shall die with it. And when I pass, I already know the proclamation that will echo through my eulogy, as I have known for the longest time: I want to say I miss me, but there has never been a me to miss.Some describe it as fleeting, but it is the only comfort I have ever known. Knowing that it can get worse and most likely will get worse before it ever gets better. And even then, the ābetterā is not truly good. Better is simply the absence of pain. It is numbness.
I can live whatever life I have left, but it will never be the one I want, the one of admiration and pleasure. The one with love and care, because deep down, I know I was meant for this. I was meant to be alone, to breathe alone, to do life alone, just as when I pass, I will do it as I lived my life. ALONE