I miss nothing. And I miss everything. I miss being careless. Fearless. Staying out into the night and never wanting to settle down. Telling myself what I want to be when I grow up and believing it would be possible. Giving charm bracelets to my friends because I loved them so much I wanted people to see.

Why do I feel so much like a child now that I am an adult? Immature. Insecure. And afraid of crowds, even when I know everyone at a party. I am so sick of writing sad things. But it is like a black weight tied around my ankles and hooked into my chest. A treasure box filled with lead.

I don't want to fade. Or lose me in this void of nothing. I am like a water-colour painting, the colour spread so thin and the vibrance diluting with age.

I want to be satisfied with who I am and not care if I am alone. I want to be excited about the future and fold away the past. I am scared no will read this. No one will feel this imprint of this longing in the footprints of their own heart. I don't want to fade. Or wear out. Or disappear. I call out into this abyss and I hear nothing. And that scares me