I’ve realized the reason I feel so lonely sometimes despite having a decent number of friends is because I am the sidekick in all my friends’ lives. I am not the heroine in any of the stories. Who wants to waste a whole scene/chapter on a sidekick? Sidekick’s stories almost never have any relevance except when they directly affect the protag. And so they are never told.

So when I have a thing I’m feeling, and I want to pick up and call and talk about it, I don’t. Because I think — this is so unimportant. Its meaningless and simultaneously depressing and existential compared to their issues. Its not tonally right. I’m always eager to listen and to snarkily commentate and nicely advice as and when required about them. But when it comes to me, its as if my own issues are really not that worthy of discussion.

These are the same people with whom I shared every detail of my mundane life once. Who I could talk to about anything without any shame. But now I wonder if my friends actually care when ask ‘and how are you?’ and if they actually breath a sigh of relief when I say ‘oh fine…tell me about YOU”. Perhaps its paranoia. I hope so, anyway.

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