Epilogue

I once thought it was impossible to feel alone. I mean, how could I? I'm surrounded by people.

I have the best group of friends, they are inspiring and supportive.

My parents are still together. I have no problems with my academics, getting an award wasn't impossible.

Our family is comfortable and financially stable.

I think I'm happy. I should be happy.

I have a perfect life...

At least that's what they think, or that's what I want them to think. Because it's easier that way.

Easier than being judged, or ridiculed,or being forced to feel isolated or not normal. Whatever that means.

Even so, I was fine masking my real feelings around everyone else. I thought to myself that it was unnecessary to share my life with anybody.

Rather than sharing my tragic past, I assumed that there is a finer way to introduce myself to society.

A more acceptable person living an average life.

I was satisfied with just this. For a while, I felt like I'd finally live a peaceful life because of the fake version of me that I worked so hard on.

Until yet again, I was robbed of that said life.

My real identity and my past were leaked out. And people around me started to treat me terribly as if my life wasn't dreadful enough

Nothing mattered anymore.

All I wanted was peace. All I ever wanted was to live normally. To laugh with friends or to feel the warmth of a loving family, yet, I had neither.

I wanted to just give up.

Until I met him.

He gave me hope. He made me feel loved. I cherished him more than anything in the world.

Yet once again, the world has defied my desires.

For I can't have this man. It's impossible

How can I reach you, If you don't even exist?