When I was walking with you, I wondered if the oncoming cars were moving fast enough to kill me.
I didn't want to be this bitter and envious person who laments everything they could never have.
At the gym, you asked me if I was sad and then told me that it wasn't actually sadness, but some other emotion you couldn't place.
It's infected me.
I can't stop the swirling negativity and suicidal curiosity. The gap between me and others has never been so apparent, and there's nowhere to hide.
I've never been naturally good at anything. Never particularly drawn to anything.
I'll keep banging my head against this wall because brute force is all I understand. I'm not giving up.