honestly, i miss writing poems and short stories and novelas, but now i barely have the time or the want to those things. i started to have more and more stress and i don’t feel like my hobbies are exciting me anymore. it turns into a time where i just got bored at everything and i don’t know what to do. i don’t know where my friends are, i don’t know which one of them i can really talk to anymore, and i don’t know which ones are also trying to see me, or at least hear from me.
my only best friend right now is my boyfriend, and that is a blessing because we both love each other so much. but i can’t go to a boyfriend to do a best friend’s job. sometimes i just want to have coffee and catch up and learn how everybody’s been doing, or talk about sex the weird way like my friends and i always do, tease and bully the hell out of each other, but strong and supportive of each other.
i honestly don’t know what i’m doing with my life, and how i’m doing it. i’m not sure i enjoy them 100% but i don’t know what else am i supposed to be doing. i miss not stressing out about jobs and money all the time, i miss the time when i can go out and gossip and talk about the old times and the new times, i miss getting drunk and falling asleep so soundly and not getting a hangover when i wake up early the next morning, i miss mostly thinking about positive outcomes or how to get positive outcomes. i miss my hobbies. i miss my friends.
i miss writing poems and short stories and novelas, but i have ran out of stories to tell or to write. i no longer read the books that i bought or the movies that i downloaded, i just stare blankly into the screen and hope i can still make something out of my glitchy brain.
hope everyone has a great new year. i miss all of you. and i bet none of you will read this letter.