The Little Things

Chapter 2.

A Conflicted Heart.

Why do I care? Why do I feel everything and nothing at the same time? How can I be fine, yet completely broken? There are days when I feel everything intensely, and yet, at the same time, it feels like nothing matters. It's as if my mind and heart are locked in a constant battle, each pulling me in different directions, leaving me feeling both fine and completely shattered. In the quiet moments, I often find myself overwhelmed by a surge of emotions that seem to contradict each other. 

I know I'm flawed. It's not that I'm unaware of my shortcomings. I recognize that my anger often has no clear target and that my frustrations can be irrational. But the feelings persist, regardless of my awareness. Is it wrong that my mind, actions, and emotions are always at odds, like sworn enemies secretly in love? This inner dispute tears me apart, leaving me yearning for love and acceptance, yet condemning myself for being so selfish in wanting it.

The desire to be heard and seen is overwhelming. When I'm told I'm insignificant, when my mother yells at me, when my friend vents their problems, a small voice inside me cries out, "What about me?" It feels selfish, stupid, and vain to focus on myself, to want attention, to crave understanding. Yet, I can't help it. I want to talk about myself and think about myself, and maybe it won't ever be enough. There's always a void that nothing seems to fill, a gnawing emptiness that persists no matter how much I try to ignore it.

I used to find myself drawn to unhealthy escapes like self-harm, anything to dull the pain and silence the chaos within. In those moments, I become a complacent, dazed version of myself. Numb and detached, I seek solace in the fleeting relief they bring. It's a temporary fix, a way to quiet the storm inside, but it never lasts. The emptiness always returns, more profound each time.

I cannot be content. It's as if I'm perpetually searching for something to make me whole, but every attempt falls short. The things that once brought joy no longer have the same effect. I can't cry, even though I feel utterly hollow. It's a deep, gnawing void that words can't fully capture, a sense of despair that lurks beneath the surface, ever-present and consuming. And who would care even if I could express it? I've lost those who once listened, who once cared. They don't want me anymore. My pleas for understanding go unheard, and my connection attempts fall flat.

So here I am, left with my broken heart and conflicted mind, navigating this turmoil alone. The loneliness is palpable, a constant reminder of my isolation. It's a heavy burden, carrying these thoughts and feelings with no one to share them with. Each day feels like a struggle, a battle against the darkness that threatens to consume me.

Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a small glimmer of hope. A faint, persistent belief that maybe, just maybe, things can get better. Someday, I might find a way to reconcile my mind and heart, to find peace within myself. Until then, I will continue to navigate this inner turmoil, hoping that the storm will eventually pass, and I will emerge stronger, more resilient, and at peace with who I am.