Sometimes I wonder if there is someone out there just like me.

Is there someone out there doing exactly what I am at this moment?

When I’m looking out the window watching the rain, is there someone in the world doing the same thing as me? Are they looking at the same sky through different eyes? Are they thinking the same as I am - are they wondering if they’re alone too. Or are their thoughts more important, more selfless, more interesting than mine? Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if I’m real.

I see, I feel, I breathe. But it’s not me - I’m detached from myself.

I’m in a soap bubble, I can see the world, I can see life passing me by but my heart can’t believe it and I can’t touch it. I can’t be a part of it. Everything feels so real that it hurts, well, everything except for me.

So I just sit here in my bubble - sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry. I pretend to belong but it can’t last long… the feeling is always there. I’m not real. This isn’t real and I can’t help but wonder if one day my bubble will burst and reveal the truth, reveal that life is a lie. And if I’ll mourn the loss of the world I was never a part of. The world I wish I could belong to - the world outside the bubble. Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if there is anyone that cares.

Do they think of me and smile? Do they miss me when I’m gone. Is there anyone who would cry real tears when I die. Not tears of pity, or tears of obligation, or tears for attention - tears for me, tears because I’m gone, tears because their heart won’t forget.

Is there someone that will find perfection in my imperfection?

Is there someone whose world is better because I’m a part of it? When their dreams come true would they want me by their side? Would they trade me in for someone better if they could? Someone smarter, funnier, quirkier?

Is there someone who would cry for me? Lie for me? …Die for me? Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be happy.

Will I ever feel complete? Will there ever be a time in my life where I wouldn’t change a thing? Where I’m perfectly happy and there’s nothing that could make my life any better? Even if it’s just for a moment?

Or is this as good as it get’s, fleeting moments of happiness that are rare and gone too soon - that leave you emptier than you were before?

What is happiness anyway? Is it the absence of pain and longing and sadness? Or is it just making the good things count for more than the bad?

Is life like a delicate scale - two sides; the good and the bad. Sometimes the scale will tip and one will outweigh the other but both sides need to be there for the scale to work - for life to work? Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me.

Am I broken - did something go wrong when I was made? Why am I always questioning everything? Why can’t I just accept life as it is without trying to find a meaning, a reason to be? Why am I always wishing for something more? Is there any way to fix me - a band aid, a pill, a clean slate? Or will this feeling last forever? Am I different or is everyone like this? Sometimes I wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one that feels this way...