Since I was little I always felt that I do not belong to somewhere. My family is a mess, my life is a mess. I am a mess. Everything about me is a perfect definition of the word 'mess'.
Perhaps that's why I am always alone. Nothing is really bad at being alone, especially when you get used to it, when you finally learn to somehow convert loneliness into serenity.
Drowning to misery, deafening with the silence, grasping the despair and creating a bed at your self-made blackhole.
Nothing's ever wrong at trying to live with what has accompanied you for a long time.
I had friends, most of them are fake, some are good, and others are bad. But all of them are temporary.
No one ever stayed, I expected that since I am aware do not belong somewhere but my space, my blackhole.
A group of friends almost changed my perception. They make me feel welcomed & needed, and I was happy. They came into my life accepting me, having fun with me, pulling me from the blackhole I thought I belong. Inch by inch, I was out of it.
But at the verge of almost being able to go out, of thinking that they were real, of thinking that I am someone who belongs to them, they left, and let go of my hand causing me to drown back to the loneliness, despair and darkness.
It was the most horrible feeling I had in my life, to make me believe that I am wanted but the truth is, I never was.
I hate it, that every time I try to reach out for them, they turn their backs at me and just leave.
All those people who call themselves my friends just leave in the end. No one has ever had the courage to stay.
And so just as I always do, I pull my blanket up to my neck and close my eyes as I lay down to my bed at the bottom of my blackhole. Feeling the darkness engulfing me as it whispered
"Good night, forsaken one. Good night, Yagi."
