it's hard to remember if I was ever really happy, or, satisfied, with my life, but when I think back, when I look at pictures, when I try to bring it all back, it at least seems easier.
things had a way. there were bouts of the good things and the bad things always got lost, paved over, forgotten with time because time was all we really had. I may have never had a solid group of friends, but the ones I had felt like they'd last forever sometimes, and i felt such a fierce protectiveness of them, of us.
and I may have never had a best friend, or none of them ever stayed, but at least it felt like finally someone would stick by me until the day I died, someone would fucking be there whenever I needed them to be. I may have never been something to look at, pay attention to, but at least I got to feel how much it fucking hurts when everyone seems to be doing better than you.
at least it was easier to pretend that everything was fine and no one would ever change, or leave me, or branch off and group together and drag me in the mud behind them.
at least I felt like I had something to gain, something to lose, something to protect.
at least it felt infinite, felt perfect, felt worth it, special, important, present. bc now, it feels lonely. now, I just feel empty.
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