At 23 years of age, I expected to know myself better than this. 
I look in the mirror, and I don’t recognise myself. I don’t see the person everyone else sees. Maybe it’s for the best. 
Maybe, this is how it’s meant to be. 
Deep down, I’m hollow. I’m not happy and that’s okay. Not everyone can flourish through life. Some are destined to live cruelly. 
I’m here but I’m not really living my life. 
Life lives me mostly. 
That is all. 
Thank you for reading