Lately, I’ve been missing a version of myself I haven’t seen in a while—the one who camped by the beach and got wasted under the stars ‘til sunrise, who said yes to hiking even when the sky looked moody, who caught waves in ELYU like the ocean knew my name. I miss movie dates that felt like magic, bowling nights full of bad aim and loud laughter, badminton games that were more about bonding than winning. I crave the spontaneous road trips, the unplanned food crawls, the quiet hours spent in coffee shops and bookstores, and the thrill of meeting new people who made life feel less lonely.
But now, it’s just… routine. I wake up, work, go home, sleep—on repeat. Even on rest days, I stay in bed, watching shows to escape the reality I’m too tired to face. Everything feels like a loop I can’t break. After work, I’m completely drained, and my social battery? Dead. I’ve been living in this quiet isolation, carrying silent battles no one sees. I don’t know if this is just what growing older feels like or if there’s something deeper going on. All I know is, I feel like life is slipping past me, and I’m not even chasing it anymore. I hope I find the strength soon—to break free from this numbness and start living again. Really living.
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