He says he’s fine with his own company, but he’s lonely.

He often says no worries but he’s upset.

Wishes things didn’t change so much. He feels like all the seats being taken and its looking more and more like there is not seat for him. Slowly being squeezed out of relevance.

Weekends spent in frustrating solitude. He can’t focus on what he tells everyone he loves doing.

Can’t quite get past the first date or two. It kills him that he can pinpoint that exact moment something changes in the tone of their voice.

Not responsible or focused. Can’t focus.

Hates himself for being too scared of making the change that might make him really happy.

Tells everyone he’s content with his body and confident in his looks but deep down will do anything to be more desirable.

Looks like he’s happy and content but everything is empty and there is no passion or joy. On the brink of tears but can’t quite get to that point.

He’s performative, probably not fooling anyone. He definitely can’t fool himself anymore though.

Something’s gotta change, something’s gotta give.

He feels sick, he feels like he’s slowly dying inside.

Every night when he goes to bed, he longs for sleep, taking him to a place where he feels more alive than he does in wake.

He longs for release.