I didn’t write this for you.
And I didn’t plan to share it.
But some messages…
they don’t care about your plans.
They want to be heard.
So here it is.
A voice memo I recorded at 2:14 AM.
The night I realized I didn’t know who I was anymore.
You see…
I didn’t feel broken.
I felt… quietly erased.
Like I was still walking, breathing, smiling…
but the real me…
had quietly packed her things and left.
And no one noticed.
Not even me.
That night, I sat in the dark,
wondering how long I’d been pretending.
Pretending to laugh,
pretending to care,
pretending I wasn’t… drowning in silence.
I picked up my phone.
Not to call anyone.
Just to hear… a voice.
So I left one for myself.
This is that voice.
If you’re listening to this,
and you’ve ever felt the same…
like no one’s asked how you really are…
or worse — like they asked, but couldn’t hear the answer —
then don’t scroll.
Just comment:
“Still here.”
That’s all.
No explanation.
No story.
Just… still here.
And maybe, so am I.