It’s okay to be human.. I guess.

(Might delete later)

It’s one of those days when you wake up feeling heavy.

Ai generated

It’s been about four days of mood swings — ever since I fell asleep crying after watching a TikTok that touched a very vulnerable part of me. That same night, my subconscious gave me one of the worst dreams.

Since then, I’ve been stuck in this loop of wondering:

Why do I always have to be the one left out?

I’ve felt this way so many times throughout my life, and somehow, the pattern keeps showing up — just in different forms.

But when I’m with you guys, something triggers that fear… and it keeps growing inside me.

Dear childhood besties —

You’ll always have a special place in my heart.

You earned that place over the years, even if you haven’t been making much effort to keep it lately.

I want to be honest —

I haven’t been enjoying our gatherings lately.

You’re in a different phase of life now: marriage, pregnancy… and I love you.

I’m genuinely happy and proud of each one of you.

But every time I see you, I leave with mixed feelings.

I miss the old days — after school, the six of us talking about everything and nothing.

All of us truly listening — not just me, trying to find space in the conversation.

We spent our whole lives dreaming we’d go through this together —

That our husbands would be friends.

That we’d have movie nights.

That we’d raise our kids side by side.

And now… you’re living that dream.

And I’m still here.

Stuck in my own journey of self-discovery.

But it feels like you don’t really see that as something meaningful.

Like I have nothing “interesting” to share unless it’s about meeting someone new or joining your timeline.

But this is new to me too.

I’m facing new things every day — deep, personal things.

You just don’t seem to care enough to ask or listen.

I remember one time, you called me by accident while I was crying about something that meant a lot to me.

We talked for a few minutes — and it actually helped.

But then… nothing.

When I saw you two months later, you casually asked,

“Oh, by the way, what happened with that thing you were crying about?”

That moment broke something inside me.

I wish I could just tell you:

“I want to be there with you. We dreamed of this since we were kids.”

But I know you don’t have the emotional awareness to really hear what I’m saying.

And I’m scared you’ll twist my words or misunderstand my intentions.

I’m just… sad.

And I wish I could pause life — just for a little while —

Until I’ve healed the things standing between me and all the things we once said we’d do together.

I didn’t choose struggle.

I wanted a normal, happy life.

But struggle chose me — and in a strange way, I’m lucky for that.

I just wish I could talk to you about it, too.

And I wish you could be proud of me, too.

I know this is life, and I might need to stay away for a while.

And I’m sorry —

Sorry for feeling this way.

Sorry for not being perfect.

With love, always —

Even from afar.