"Purpose„

A story stitched from lies, laced with truths too quiet to be heard.
Forgotten memories, rewritten until even I can't tell what really happened.
Dreams left untouched, forever out of reach.

Ever asked yourself "What if?"
What if you could rewrite everything?
What if you could mold your life into someone else?
Someone unloved.
Someone alone.

Every word here is a lie. Maybe even the truths feel like lies too. They're hidden too well.
And the lies? Spoken too easily. Believed too quickly.
Especially the one where no one ever loved me.
That one-she wrote into every corner. I said it so many times, I started hearing it in silence.

But love did exist.
She just never wanted it.
It clung too tightly. Demanded too much.
So she threw it away and said it was never there.
But that's not me. I know it wasn't that simple. I know she was wrong. But I'm afraid to face it, because...
Because what does that make me?

I'm not the victim.
I never was.
But in my mind, she always is.
She is the one who walks this path, breaking everything she touches.
I tell myself it's easier this way. Easier to hate her, easier to hate myself, easier to keep the lie alive.

This is the story of someone who wasn't a victim-
but wore the role like second skin.
Because it felt cleaner than guilt.
Safer than being loved.

I see through the cracks, and I wonder-
Was I ever truly loved? Or was this all a lie?

This journey is twisting, collapsing, breaking-towards nowhere.
And when the cracks show, and the walls give in-
I will lose myself trying to keep the lie alive.
Because confronting the truth feels worse than drowning in fiction.

And at the end of it all, I still ask:
"How am I still alive after everything?"
Even when the 'everything' was built by me.
Even when I'm the one refusing to let go.