Words of a teenage escapist.

Nobody loves me.

The truth is out in the open. I don't feel loved. Not even just a little bit.

Come to think of it, I've never been special to anybody. Never.

Nobody talks to me. Nobody asks me for advice. Nobody tells me their problems. Nobody trusts enough to console with me. Nobody asks me what I want for my birthdays. Nobody tells me that I make their day. Nobody thanks me for living or breathing. Nobody says I'm worth it. Nobody knows whether I'm sad or not, and if they do, they don't ask what's wrong. Nobody even bothers to give me the time of day sometimes. Nobody thinks of me as different. Different in the sense that I can be there for people. Nobody.

Not even myself.

I don't know if this is just aftereffect of waking up on the wrong side of the bed, or because I'm just being emotional/sentimental. Waking up earlier this morning, I realized these things. And I've never felt so lonely and forgotten in my life. To make it worse, when I walked out of my room, I found the house empty. Everybody has left. And right now, I feel so dejected and confused and unwanted.

Was it all a lie?

The words, the actions, the feelings...

They're back. And they're sorry. As always, I forgive them. 
But these feelings...


These feelings linger.