Maybe It’s Best to Be Alone

It is commonly said that knowing others have similar experiences to one’s self is reassuring. I have come to realize that is not the case for me. 

It is honestly so hard to see people going through certain hardships that I too have to navigate through. It pains me to know that I can’t shoulder all this misery. Why must people experience what I am experiencing? Why can’t they take off and fly? Why must they be chained to ground drowned in their own sorrow?

Would it be so bad for me to take all this on so others could be more at ease? I find no solace in shared agony. I find nothing of value in this knowledge at all. 

Maybe when my time comes I can become an entity that drains all the unnecessary pain and takes it for myself. I’ll be a little pain goblin “om nom nom.” I could slowly nibble away at everything that holds people back. I don’t want others to be stuck wishing for something, but they can’t reach it despite truly wanting to. I don’t want others to feel as hopeless as I do when they know they could be so much happier. I wish for them to feel happiness again. Perhaps that is an overrated emotion, but I find it so comforting. If I could push my luck, I’d want to make room for happiness that had no ulterior motive. The happiness would exist to truly make the host happy and not to provide false hope that would soon dwindle down to depression. 

Maybe I have made happiness more of a villain than it really is. I just feel so much of happiness is fake. Why can’t it be sincere. If it was sincere would we even be able to grasp it?

I would find a way. I would find a way to make it all work. I have to believe that I could find a way. What use would I be if I couldn’t do this one thing? I want to take this on. By myself, I feel I could really do something outside of the confines of this body. 

Maybe I could really be something…