Sometimes at night I suddenly become aware of all the things I’m missing out on right now, and all the people who I’m not close to anymore, and all of the good times that will never happen again, and all the people who meant the world to me who have forgotten about me forever, and I get this awful feeling that’s kind of like a mix between loneliness and nostalgia.
I can’t picture anyone daydreaming about me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me when they’re laying in bed before they fall asleep. I can’t picture anyone telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I hugged them, or even just because I made eye contact with them. I can’t picture someone smiling because my name lit up their phone. I just can’t.