Now I know it is true. Or maybe I think it is.
What if I didn’t exist? Would some people be happy with their lives? Would some people live differently to as what they are living now?
That question always bugs me. Always making me overthink. Making me question my existence, leading to self-doubt and a destructive personality.
What if ‘Dyan’ didn’t exist?
I always think of all the HAPPY POSSIBILITIES for people, not for myself. I always think that this person will be better off without me. That this person will not feel irritated or offended by the sight or even the mention of my name. That this person will live a happy life because I didn’t exist.
Now that I am out of his life, I think his mother is happy that we are no longer together. The mother may have expressed her sentiment but I think it is for his son only, not for me, not for us. Of course, all mother’s are like that, thinking only for what is best for her child.
She told me that she is in dismay that her son is always out during Saturdays (ofc, he is with me, but idk if he is letting his mom know, he assumes his mom knows it already) and that his son always ends up cashing out a thousand pesos or more in a week. In my defense, I don’t let him spend that much when we go out together. So I don’t know what is she talking about. Maybe at times, he may have bought something here and there. Maybe, just maybe, she is now happy that his son has undivided attention and support.
And of course, the man himself. I think, maybe, just maybe, he is at peace. He may be at war with his heart, but without me pestering him and his war, maybe, he is happy. He can be happy. He may not have found peace but he may be happy without me. Without someone asking him to do things he doesn’t want. Without someone asking him a lot of things. He can just ask himself and think for himself without worrying about other people. Without being responsible for other people aside from himself. And that certainly brings a little bit of happiness because partly, it is what he wants. And when you get what you want, you should feel happy, even for a tiniest moment.
People may regard me as a very talkative person and a importunate person and I thought it is okay. I thought it’s what makes me, me. That I cannot be perfect for you, but I can be like this and it is up to you whether you accept me or not. But I don’t know. Being me like this is just not enough reason. Maybe being me is not okay. Maybe I need to act and be somebody else. I don’t know. But all I know is that, those aren’t the only things that makes me, ME.
But sometimes, I feel like I am drowning in what other people say. And I don’t know how to swim. Literally and figuratively.
I feel no one can see me now, I am invisible. I am just another random face that you pass by in the sidewalk. I am no one. Nothing. Just a speck of dust. No one can save me now.