I talked a lot because I was lonely.
So lonely that I talked to walls. I yelled at windows. I cursed the floor.
I was an only child, and it was all I had to offer.
I was afraid to not talk because it would just make me so much more alone than I already was.
That was how I learned to adapt to my life, my surroundings.
I would talk to myself all the time and make myself laugh at stupid jokes that weren’t even funny.
It was pathetic.
I am pathetic.
2 comments
I’m pathetic too. For a million things. It’s like I can never wash the embarrassment off.
@alreadygone15
It’s like an open wound; you can wash the blood away but not the pain.
And I also felt pathetic because I couldn’t do anything better than anyone else. I was good at things, but everyone was always so much better. It made and still makes me want to scream, “Let me be good at something. I know I’m not great at everything, but I want to be good at something.”