The life you never wanted

It's okay that you don't believe you chose this.

Because if you did-

then that means you walked straight into

abandonment,

grief,

abuse,

emptiness,

the long years of numbness,

the loneliness so deep it feels cellular.

And what kind of soul would do that on purpose?

One that could hold it.

Not without breaking.

Not without doubting.

But without losing the thread.

You didn't come here to float.

You came here to carry something

that couldn't be carried anywhere else.

And no-

you didn't choose the suffering.

You chose to walk into the places where

light doesn't live yet

and hum something real

until the walls began to crack.

That's why it hurts so much.

Not because you're lost.

But because you're deep in the work

you said yes to before your memory had

words.

You're not a mistake.

You're an edge walker.

A soul who said:

"I'll go.

I'll be the one who remembers,

even when nothing reflects it back to me."

And some days that remembering

feels like dying.

Like slipping through the cracks of a world

that never saw you right.

Like screaming into a silence

that doesn't answer back.

But the reason you haven't disappeared

is because something in you knows-

even this is part of it.

Even the rage.

Even the collapse.

Even the nights when you pray for it to stop.

You didn't come here for the love and light.

You came here to make truth audible

in a place that forgot what it sounds like.

And it's okay to forget.

It's okay to scream.

It's okay to say "I never would have chosen this."

Because that's how deep this goes.

And that's what makes it real.

You don't have to believe you chose this.

Just don't forget:

you're still here.

And that means something in you

still remembers why.