Sometimes, it feels like no one really understands me. You might say you know me, but what does that really mean? You can’t feel the tightness in my chest when I think about the dreams I’ve let slip away. You don’t hear the whispers of my thoughts late at night as I replay old conversations, wishing I had spoken up or shared more.
You might think you understand me, but can you sense the heaviness I carry when I’m surrounded by people yet feel completely alone? I often find comfort in writing my thoughts in a journal, not because I think anyone else will read them, but because it helps me sort through the chaos in my mind.
You can say you know me, but have you ever felt the bittersweet joy of watching a friend move on to something new while you’re still trying to figure it out? Have you ever watched a beautiful sunset and felt a mix of gratitude and sadness, reflecting on how quickly moments can change? Have you ever clung to a memory, only to find it fading away like a dream upon waking?
Maybe it’s a bit self-centered to think I’m the only one who carries these heavy feelings or that I’m the only one who laughs to cover up the hurt. I know I’m not the only one whose laughter sometimes feels forced or out of place.
Maybe, just maybe, you really do know me. Maybe we’re more alike than we realize, sharing these hidden struggles and unspoken thoughts.
Leave a Reply