I started running again this week. It’s been alright, I guess. It helps keep my mind off things. I also ordered pizza for my brother. We laughed while watching movies together. It was a good time. With another phone call for a few minutes felt like the cherry on top. I also went to see some old friends, which was nice after a long time. Overall, the week ended on a positive note, of course, if you exclude the part where I felt miserable during the festive week. It somehow reminded me of old times and how I didn’t seize the opportunity when I had it, but now it feels too late.
I pretended to be in love with the idea of being alive, making myself busy at every chance I got. However, sometimes the sadness still creeps in. I don’t know why I can’t seem to be fully happy. It’s as if a lingering sadness lies dormant inside me, quietly residing beneath my gratitude and performances until it finds the right moment to resurface, reminding me that something feels wrong with my existence.
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