majora's mask

a lot of the times i think about my compulsive liar roommate from a few years back. despite me knowing he was lying every time he opened his mouth, i loved it. every time he spoke i can tell he was just desperate in wanting me to be a part of his life and lies.

he wanted me to believe he was a self-made startup CEO, which i could tell he wasn’t, but there was something in that lie that really sold me. and i don’t think it’s the idea of being around someone who’s captivating due to this so-called “startup founder experience”.

i think it was due to the idea of feeling needed by someone - which he told me point blank when i first met him. 

there’s something so validating about someone needing you. for some reason, it feels like you’ve struck gold because for the first time, you feel like you truly matter to someone. they need you in the same way someone needs their meds in the morning or honestly me eating taco bell once a week - it’s something that becomes a requirement over time.

it’s nice to have someone to want to just surround yourself with and vice versa. to know their ins and outs. to know them like an outlook calendar or a repeatable video game.

you know they’re scared of the dark. you know their order at the diner down the street. you know what size shirt they are and you know the type of ingredients they avoid when eating out.

becoming a part of someone’s life is something that feels almost necessary for me. it’s what i truly crave to the point i don’t know who i am without someone else. it feels scary to think that i don’t know who i am.

i don’t really know myself at all. what are my hobbies if they aren’t the same of someone else’s?

if i play a video game, it feels empty without someone playing it with me. if i watch a movie, it feels like a chore. reading a book feels like homework without the grading at the end.

it forces me to find out who i really am which i think is a nightmare within itself. something about “coming of age” and “discovering myself” is something that i keep on being told is something that’s supposed to happen during my 20s. 

i’m nothing more than this confusing husk that takes the form of a man. if you depend on other people and that is gone - what’s left of that person?

i walk into stores not knowing what foods are my favorite anymore simply because i’d always try to find the similar foods between us to make talking points of. 

i think i like pizza, but mostly because i remember talking about toppings with you.

i think i like video games that are story based because i loved debating character choices with you.

maybe my style is changing because i can’t compare it to someone else’s at the moment.

i feel untethered with no way to piece it back together.