ever notice how the people you love the most somehow spend more time drifting toward people who feel farther from you? how the closeness is still there, real and deep, yet it’s the ones you hold closest who end up hurting you the most. some connections don’t even have a proper name—they’re just there, heavy and undefinable, lingering longer than they should.
and then there’s this quiet pressure to be perfect at life. to ace everything you’re given, to prove you’re doing enough, being enough. you try so hard, but no matter how much effort you pour in, it never feels like a win. you miss that one shot, lose that one game, and suddenly it feels like you’ve failed at everything. like you’re losing pieces of yourself a little more each day, and it hurts more than you ever admit.
and when you think about losing the people you love, it hits all over again. why does it hurt the most when you’re trying your hardest to forget? why does the heart remember what the mind is begging to let go of?