Tears spill down my cheeks, warm against my skin, but they do nothing to ease the weight pressing against my chest.
I don’t even know what hurts more—the disappointment, the regret, or the aching loneliness that comes with it.
I should’ve been happy today. I had something to look forward to, something small but exciting.
I placed an order online, eagerly waiting for it to arrive.
And when it did, my hands trembled with anticipation as I opened the package, expecting joy—only to be met with a cruel twist of reality.
I had been scammed.
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the worthless thing in front of me, my mind refusing to accept it.
I blinked, hoping maybe I was just seeing it wrong, but no—the truth was there, clear and unforgiving.
And then it hit me.
The money was gone.
Just like that.
It wasn’t an amount I could easily brush off. It mattered. And now, I have nothing left for tomorrow.
The thought of asking for help gnaws at me, but the shame is heavier than my empty pockets.
I wish that were the only reason I feel like this, but maybe today is just one of those days.
The kind where everything feels a little too much, where even the smallest things crack open wounds I thought had healed.
Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s the exhaustion of constantly trying to keep it together when all I want to do is break down.
But what aches the most isn’t even the lost money.
It’s the realization that I just want someone to care.
Someone to notice.
Someone to ask, “How was your day?” and actually wait for the answer.
Because today, I need to be heard.
I need someone to tell me that it’s okay, that I’m not foolish for trusting, that I’m not alone in this.
For so long, I’ve been the one who checks in on people, who makes sure they’re okay, who listens even when I’m struggling myself.
And yet, as I sit here, drowning in my own silence, I wonder—who checks on me?
I tell myself I should be used to this by now. That this is just life.
That people are busy, that everyone has their own struggles.
And maybe that’s true.
But even knowing that doesn’t make the loneliness hurt any less.
YOU ARE READING
POV
Non-FictionLife often presents itself as a series of hurdles, each one taller than the last. These hurdles, though daunting, are not meant to break us but to shape us into who we are meant to be. It is through our darkest nights that we gain the strength to fa...
