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Description
I don't remember much from my childhood, but I can auralize what feeling not-a-part-of-it was like, and I honestly think it never left. The feeling of being an outcast never really left me, I tried to ignore it, I tried to reason it with the fact of being the youngest kid, I even tried to convince myself it never happened. But it did, and it still is. Whenever someone told me I left the impression of someone unapproachable, a piece of me died, knowing how I always felt the opposite, how I always was scared to approach, not only because I felt I was not worth it, but because I never felt like I was, simply was. I never felt like anything is made for me, I never belonged in my own house, it felt like my family members needed more space, and I was invading it with their own regretful decision. And I was stuck in the situation where being and being gone were equally painful. And now I still can't help feeling that. Whenever I see a dress, a guy, or hear a song I like, as much as my heart grows knowing something that beautiful exists, I feel the numbing tightness in my arms knowing how that won't fit me. And now, once again, I was unimaginably close to fooling myself that I saw something that will. Whenever I was left alone, I hated it, not because I wanted people to talk to, I just needed presence, and mine never felt enough even for myself. A room with only me in it felt like void. I used to be sure that void meant literally nothingness, and it does, but nothingness now seems different. Void is not a lack of being, it's more of a lack of knowing. I felt neverendingness inside of me, and that made me feel empty, simply because I wasn't able to fathom its neverending existence. And I wanted that neverendingess to engage in something that was more fathomable, understandable, something that I could clearly see, something this world and my 5 senses offer. But it never really did, and it might never really do. And somethings might never really end.

Description
I don't remember much from my childhood, but I can auralize what feeling not-a-part-of-it was like, and I honestly think it never left. The feeling of being an outcast never really left me, I tried to ignore it, I tried to reason it with the fact of being the youngest kid, I even tried to convince myself it never happened. But it did, and it still is. Whenever someone told me I left the impression of someone unapproachable, a piece of me died, knowing how I always felt the opposite, how I always was scared to approach, not only because I felt I was not worth it, but because I never felt like I was, simply was. I never felt like anything is made for me, I never belonged in my own house, it felt like my family members needed more space, and I was invading it with their own regretful decision. And I was stuck in the situation where being and being gone were equally painful. And now I still can't help feeling that. Whenever I see a dress, a guy, or hear a song I like, as much as my heart grows knowing something that beautiful exists, I feel the numbing tightness in my arms knowing how that won't fit me. And now, once again, I was unimaginably close to fooling myself that I saw something that will. Whenever I was left alone, I hated it, not because I wanted people to talk to, I just needed presence, and mine never felt enough even for myself. A room with only me in it felt like void. I used to be sure that void meant literally nothingness, and it does, but nothingness now seems different. Void is not a lack of being, it's more of a lack of knowing. I felt neverendingness inside of me, and that made me feel empty, simply because I wasn't able to fathom its neverending existence. And I wanted that neverendingess to engage in something that was more fathomable, understandable, something that I could clearly see, something this world and my 5 senses offer. But it never really did, and it might never really do. And somethings might never really end.