I never was sure of
Just what it was I wanted.
I had the friends.
The love.
The companionship.
Everything I needed
To be happy.
But I wasn’t.
It seemed as though
They didn’t care.
They eventually stopped calling.
Stopped wanting to talk.
Stopped visiting.
And even when I initiated
The conversations
The meetings
The calls
It didn’t matter.
The attempts were ignored.
And there I was:
Alone.
Again.
So I began my desperate search
For that thing everyone chases.
A so-called happiness
That would make this thing called life
Worth it.
But each failed attempt
Dimmed the hopes
Deep within me.
And here I am now:
Seventeen years of my life passed.
And still no purpose.
No direction.
No happiness.
So is this really worth it?
I don’t think it is.