This life I’m living, it seems not to be mine. It hasn’t felt like my life for many years now.

Some things have changed in my life lately, but some have stayed the same. Maybe I’m a little bit closer to find myself.

Sometimes I live in the past, though. I miss the friends I used to have. I want to go to the places that I used to go to. I keep seeking the books that I used to hold in my hands. Except, this all is long gone.

I want so badly to get out of that maze. I want to get all the things that belong to me. Catch the wind in my backpack. Stain my favourite jeans with the ink of my wounds. Read the words aloud. Tell the whole world about scars marring my skin.

I’ve been waiting for so long. How much longer?

Jealousy is silly. Silly and unreasonable.

I watch from afar and envy lives that I’ll never possess. Such a waste of time. I watch from afar, jealous of men that I’ll never want.

When you love someone… How can you be sure that they love you back? Trust. You can’t follow them everywhere they go. You can’t forbid them to speak to other people. You can’t control them. You can’t make them love you.

I am a jealous woman. Why? Maybe because I was abandoned when I was a child. Maybe because I’ve never felt pretty. Pretty and feminine enough to be a damsel in distress for all the men who constantly want to feel useful in society. There is always someone better than you.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly alright on my own. Still, there comes the attraction and suddenly you find yourself lost in an ocean, with water filling your lungs. And you know… you’re sure that the water is deathly for you cannot breathe.

Knowing that you cannot swim and never will you be able to, you sink in it. Further and further away from the blue skies above you. And you don’t grab that chance waiting for you, until it’s too late and the only thing you can do is to collect shells from the bottom of your broken soul.

I’m sat now, crying. Jealousy and bitterness running down my spine. Will I ever touch his face?

I usually don’t care whether people like me or not. I don’t make friends with many of them. They come and go, only making you miss them.

However, there are certain people in your life whom you like and whose opinion matters to you. Then comes the fear that they might not like you back and you’re trying so much to be the best version of yourself. You want to be funny, cool and nonchalant only to be liked by that person.

But I have to be honest with myself. These people who speak to me a lot, they also speak a lot to others the same way. They don’t speak to you because they want to form a bond with you, but because it’s the way they are. They are nice to everyone, they talk to everyone but they really like no one.

I am a quiet person and I’ve been caught in that trap many times. I talk to chatty people because they talk to me, and then I feel that they are special to me. But you… you are nothing to them. Just another talking mouth.