My heart is heavy.

I don't know why it is today of all days, but right now, I feel like it's trying to tie me down to the floor. Like it wanted to match the grey weather, but instead of bringing forth rain, it weighs down the muscle that is my heart. My heart, my stomach, my eyes... It all feels twice as big and half as beautiful, half as important. What do I matter? What do my feelings matter? Nothing. Not in the great schemes of things, at least. Most of the time I wonder: who loves me? Outside of my family, I'm unsure wether I will manage to hold on to love. Even with my own family, I question myself: Is it me they love, or the place I have in the family? Every once in a while I feel so unimportant, so ignorant, so mean, so clumsy, so big yet so small, so... insignificant. I am my whole world, but will I ever be anyone's? This ugly me, so filled with doubts and heartache, will it ever be enough for someone? Will I ever be someone's muse? Anyone's irreplaceable friend or partner? Will I ever get to feel someone give me their undivided attention? I want to be looked at like I'm someone's whole world. Like I'm the most interesting person in the world; the kindest, the prettiest, the smartest, the funniest... I want someone to hold me in that regard. Is that too much to ask for? It might be. I guess it's one of those things where, no matter how undivided my attention is for anyone, I will never be able to hold someone's interest for long. I've never felt dull, but I wonder now. I had never felt clumsy, but now I do. Somehow, I feel like my soul is getting tainted with dark thoughts. How will I purge these feelings? I try writing them out, but it's so hard. I can feel my heart cracking at the seams, and I try, desperately, to hold my mind together. I'm flailing, falling, breaking. Who was I? Where am I going? What is my purpose in this world? Was I meant to love and be loved in return in this world? I've never been so surrounded by people, and yet, I have never felt more lonely. It's like I'm trapped in a room with no doors and no windows. I can't see anything, not even my hands. And during those brief moments where there is light, I see myself and the monsters that surround me. Then the light dims and hisses, disappearing, leaving me once more to my grief. To my own thoughts. To my self. It's an endless cycle, and I want to escape it. But I never do. Because I don't know what's outside. Because I am afraid. Inside, I know the monsters that await me. Yet I can never deal with them and wish them away. Outside, those monsters are new and unknown. The light will hold for longer, but I might be kicked back into the dark room at any time. I'll scream and I'll cry, but it is what it is. A cycle. A lifestyle.

My heart is still heavy.
I wish someone would make it light again, but I know nobody will.
It is something only I can do.
Something only I will do.