Everything is perfect. Perfect? Yes essentially. Well at least that's what they say. Hell, that's even what we say about others who seem to have basically everything we've got. We're surrounded by people who love us family, friends—hey even people that would be quick to fuck us.
We have a clear future(at least we think we do). We're going to marry THEE one. The one you check your phone for every few minutes; looking for that fix. The one who you never get "bored" of. The one you can go on adventures with. The one you can tell everything. The one that warms your heart and makes you tingle inside. The one you want to start a family with, whether that'd be x-amount of kids or just a puppy or two, ok maybe three? They're the one you want to buy a house with. The one you can't wait to go to the homegoods section with. Shit, maybe you haven't met this "One" yet! Maybe you have and they just don't know it?
You have the friends—whether that's a big group or a small tight-knit group. Maybe it's just a single person here and there. But they're your friends. The people you gossip with. The people you shop with. The people whom constantly make fun of you(you get your fair share of shots in). They're the ones you will have around for life. The ones you made that everlasting bond with. The ones that you can go days and weeks without talking to, but pick right up like it was just yesterday. They're just short of being your blood. Maybe they are your blood? They're the people you make the everlasting memories with.
Ah, yes— the memories. Those stupid calls you have with your bestfriends/significant-others. The insanely crazy group-chats that you'd probably be too shameful to show anybody else. The hilarious inside jokes that nobody else knows. The nights to remember that the concerts of your favorite artists. The nights you were shitfaced drunk. Remember those times where you guys were just driving with the music blasting your favorite song for the moment—the one you knew every lyric to? Remember the times you do that alone? Do you remember that feeling? That sense of freedom? It feals great.
Welp there's also social media to go along with all of these factors of life. There's little whom avoid this part im the 2000's. You open up Twitter, Facebook or Instagram 100 times a day. You post what you're currently feeling occasionally. You mostly post what I like to call "the books cover". This consists of all of the things that lead people to believe you're loving your best life. Extremely happy and fitting in with everybody else because of the items you post. Or the opportunities you get that makes others a little jealous. Or just the things that will bring you the attention that you deep down seek a little bit. Hey we all do it!
What people overlook majority of the times is your lowkey activity. All of the depressing posts in your liked/favorites history. All of those sad pictures with quotes that repost because you relate to them and feel them so much. The stuff that most people just keep scrolling by. Why do you do that?
Inside that book cover is the story of somebody with asphyxia. Somebody who is suffocating—slowly. Underneath all of that stuff is somebody who suffers. Somebody whom has to pretend like things are perfect. Somebody whom has to keep reminding themselves that things will get better. But do you truly believe it? Sometimes you just want to cry. It's as if your soul is wandering with cinder blocks chained to it. The sad songs seem to hit you more than the joyful songs. You find yourself growing more comfortable with staying at home, by yourself. You get very contempt with not hearing from people. Sometimes you randomly get the dark thoughts of saying "fuck it" and ending it all but to counter all of that your mind tells you to just keep moving through the trenches. This is the side you let little-to-nobody see. This is the side that is buried deep inside of you. It's small, but very very controlling. Why do you have this? Why are you going through this? What the hell keeps causing these relapses? You can't explain "it". But "it" is there. Something is being replaced. Something is missing. Right now your soul has a big ... a big ... void.
