I don’t know why I get so attached so easily when I know it’s not the case for other people? Like you meet someone or talk to someone and enjoy each other’s company but there’s nothing more than surface interest when all I want to do is share my thoughts while feeling like a bother. It’s the hardest thing in the world to have too much to share while no one is interested in even a passing glance.

I miss words. I miss having thoughts and typing them being excited for what’s coming from my head. I miss being confident that someone besides me enjoys my writing. I miss writing things to make myself happy. I miss not being so tired and cranky that I’d rather read other people’s things than write my own.