I hear a lot of people telling me to try harder to “be happy”. I always reply with a smile and a simple ‘Okay’.

But to be honest, it isn’t that easy.

If it was, I wouldn’t be so pathetic. I wouldn’t be feeling so empty. I wouldn’t be crying myself to sleep. I wouldn’t be writing this.

I have friends who get depressed because their love doesn’t love them back. I try to support them but I can’t help feeling curious and - I would be lying if I said I wasn’t - jealous.

Curious because I have never loved. I have never felt such a strong feeling towards someone. It has always been like or dislike. No love or hate. And according to my observations, everyone has something they love doing or even someone, the type of love where you would do anything for. Maybe that’s why I always feel out of place and so empty and so terrified. Because if there is no love, are you really human?

I am jealous because they can feel. They feel things I cannot. I watch them, and I see their faces light up as their love comes into the room, I see the hurt when their love pays them no attention. I see all of that. And I feel the ever-growing emptiness pull me in. I see the people who say they love me. I see them. But I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can feel so strongly towards something or someone.

I swear I try to love. I try to hate. But never have I experienced something so pointless. I find it pointless to the extent where I have almost given up on love and hate. Almost.

When I see how happy people get when they see the person they love, I can’t help but think that I want to feel so strongly because maybe then, I can properly become human.

That’s why, I swear, I am trying.