I don’t think I’ve ever really felt at home in this world. It’s like I’m trapped, stuck in a place where I don’t belong. So, I escape. I live in my mind, in a world that’s different from the one I have to face every day. A world where I’m not ignored or pushed aside, where people actually care about me. A world where I don’t feel this constant weight of loneliness and despair. In my head, I can be the person I wish I was—the one who’s loved, the one who matters.
I daydream constantly, creating this alternate reality that feels more real to me than anything outside of it. It’s the only time I feel something other than emptiness. It’s the only time I feel happy, like I actually have a place in this world. In my mind, I’m successful, I’m respected, I’m wanted. People notice me, they talk to me, they like me. It’s everything I’ve always wanted but can’t have in real life.
But as soon as I snap back to reality, it all fades away. The loneliness creeps back in, the isolation settles in my chest. I go back to being invisible. I go back to being nobody. And it hurts more because I’ve tasted what it could be like, what it could feel like to belong, even if it’s only in my mind.
I don’t know what to do anymore. The real world feels like a prison, and my mind is the only escape. But it’s not enough. It never is. I can’t live in a fantasy forever. But when the real world hurts this much, when everything is so out of reach, what else can I do? So, I keep daydreaming. It’s the only place where I can truly be happy, even if it’s just for a little while.
I daydream constantly, creating this alternate reality that feels more real to me than anything outside of it. It’s the only time I feel something other than emptiness. It’s the only time I feel happy, like I actually have a place in this world. In my mind, I’m successful, I’m respected, I’m wanted. People notice me, they talk to me, they like me. It’s everything I’ve always wanted but can’t have in real life.
But as soon as I snap back to reality, it all fades away. The loneliness creeps back in, the isolation settles in my chest. I go back to being invisible. I go back to being nobody. And it hurts more because I’ve tasted what it could be like, what it could feel like to belong, even if it’s only in my mind.
I don’t know what to do anymore. The real world feels like a prison, and my mind is the only escape. But it’s not enough. It never is. I can’t live in a fantasy forever. But when the real world hurts this much, when everything is so out of reach, what else can I do? So, I keep daydreaming. It’s the only place where I can truly be happy, even if it’s just for a little while.
