twenty five

{06.30.2026}

i have spent my entire life trying to be easy to love. small enough, digestible enough, agreeable enough. if i was easy to deal with, i'd be easy to love right?

and instead i have abandoned myself. i have emptied every ounce of myself into other people, and i have destroyed who i am, or who i was.

i turn twenty five tomorrow. and i have never felt more alone. i am an 1800 mile drive away from home, 1800 miles away from my closest friends and my first apartment bedroom. the room that held blood and tears while i screamed and cried on my knees in october, throwing my fists into the carpet. the four walls of the closet that saw the times i physically couldn't stand.

the point i'm nearing again, but there's no comfort. there is not "my own space," "my people," "my studio," the studio floor i gave myself bruises on.

and i have to be okay, but i'm not. i want to scream and cry and throw things and lose my mind again, but i have to be okay for the people around me. i have to be okay because if i'm not, it's more for my parents to worry about again. and i've only told one person, and i don't want to cling but i've genuinely never felt more alone than i do turning twenty five. and i'm so tired. i am so exhausted and don't even know where to go anymore, or what to do anymore. and i guess it just feels like there's absolutely no one and nothing, so here i am throwing it out into a void just to put my thoughts to paper to get them out of my head.

anyways