Even just a couple years ago I still felt… something. Something kept me going. It felt like there was something to hold onto that made being alive worth it.

Every day it just fades a little more. Every day I feel more disconnected from every other person alive. They tell me I “belong” at home but two people in the whole world isn’t enough to make someone feel like they belong. Two people who will never understand, anyway. Two people who get to live their authentic lives and be their authentic selves while I’m just this false, pathetic husk with 35 years of mistakes and shortcomings and laziness and depression.