excerpts from stories i will never write

i guess i just didn't realize how much it really hurt till i started speaking it out loud then i found out that it feels distant and i know it's probably my fault it's not like i help things but it just hurt all of a sudden made me realize that i don't feel important to people who would want me there for them? will i ever be there for someone? do i matter to people? or am i really and truly cursed to love more than i am loved? maybe i'm selfish.  maybe i'm assuming.  but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. --3.28.21

she reduces herself to ash shifting from this reality to one in the future she becomes formless she is a shadow she  follows life's pattern like the good little girl she's always been there is no rest for the wicked she cannot sleep you are calling but she is gone.

survival mode.  i fight  one thing    one goal     one feeling     one emotion      one battle                  at a time. am i not allowed to  struggle here ? am i not allowed to have a bad day ? must i always be on  [mentally] / [top of things] / [like an extrovert] ?