@sqwissq: Why Is Everything Like This? Sometimes I just want to understand why everything has to be so difficult. Why people leave when you finally get used to them. Why the things that make you happy always seem to come with the possibility of losing them. Why you can give someone the most sincere part of yourself and still end up wondering if you were ever enough. Why nothing ever feels permanent. Why even the happiest moments sometimes hurt a little because somewhere in the back of your mind you know they will become memories. I don’t understand why being a good person doesn’t protect you from pain. Why you can try so hard to do everything right and still watch things fall apart. Why some people get to hurt you and continue living as if nothing happened, while you spend nights trying to understand what you did wrong. And why growing up sometimes feels less like becoming someone new and more like losing the person you used to be. I think I’m tired of searching for explanations. Tired of trying to find meaning in every goodbye. Tired of asking myself what I could have done differently when sometimes there was nothing I could do. I want things to make sense. I want to know why certain people enter our lives if they’re only going to leave. Why we learn to love someone so deeply when there is no guarantee they will love us the same way. Why we have to lose things to understand how much they mattered. Why happiness can feel so fragile and sadness so permanent. Maybe there are no answers that could make all of this easier. Maybe life doesn’t explain itself. Maybe some things happen and all we can do is live through them without ever fully understanding why. But sometimes I don’t want to be strong enough to accept everything. Sometimes I just want someone to sit beside me and admit that it’s difficult. That it hurts. That none of us really knows what we’re doing or how to make everything okay. Because maybe the question isn’t always why is everything like this? Maybe sometimes it’s simply a way of saying that I’m tired. That I don’t understand. That I wish, just for once, life would be gentle with me without making me earn it first.
