wingman | Cell Phone Novel

journal

date: unknown

I've always been alone.

Cold lunches under the zelkova tree in the school courtyard.

I went from class to class, my feet following a set path.

Drowning.

That's how I felt.

I didn't understand how others were able to create relationships.

Other students always glanced at me. 

Whispers.

Giggles.

Harsh words they thought I couldn't hear.

No one waited for me after the last homeroom.

Since when did it get like this? I'm not sure.

It must have been slow, steady. Like watching grass grow.

One day, life's full of possibilities. The next, you're stuck.

I just...

couldn't do anything.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something.

People wanted friends so badly that they'd change how they talk.

How they act.

How they feel.

I saw it everywhere.

It all... became useless to me.

Something broke. I knew I couldn't go back.

I just spent time alone in the library.

When I looked at the other students...

All I could see were people, scared of change.

Everyone, just playing along. 

Because being alone was worse than being real.

So they lied to keep it together.

A fragile belief: maybe... things would always stay the same.

I'm the same.

Just like them.

No better.

Worthless.

I don't deserve anything.

Knowing what I do...

I still hurt people.

Those who reached out to me.

Those who could've... been my friends.

I've always done this.

Broken things without meaning to.

I hate it.

I hate that part of me.

But...