Why does this anxiety always get the best of me?
I’m so afraid that this is all false. It feels so real, so genuine, so true, but at the same time I can’t accept it or believe it.
It doesn’t help that you don’t open up. It doesn’t help that you don’t talk. It doesn’t help that I don’t know what you feel.
I’m stuck in this unknown dark void and I don’t know which way to go and I don’t know which way we’re heading and you’re not there to help and I feel alone and confused and lost. Am I wasting my time? Am I wasting our time?
And I’m scared of what that feels like, looking stupid out in real life.