I know I may be in a bit of a cringe angst state or be an amateur philosopher. But I do wonder. Is it normal to not know what your own personality is? At this point I've been pretending so long I don't know what it is. I present an always happy persona to most, telling honestly horrifying stories with a smile on my face. Every time I go through them all, I don't feel a thing. No remorse or sadness. Nothing but maybe anger. Except a few. Only one time period from after 2018 lives burned into my memory. And it was with him. The one who's parents treated me like the devil incarnate for loving their son. He was torn from me. For some reason nobody I've ever met has stayed with me for more than a year. They move away without a word, or they forget about me entirely, or they end up dead. Constantly abandoned. If I feel nothing most of the time, it's hard to tell if what I feel for someone can be called love or if it's just a desperate need to keep them near me. I don't want to be abandoned again, and I'm tired of pretending.
