In My Own World

Sometimes, the hardest part isn't being excluded — it's the silence that follows. The quiet truth that you weren't chosen, and maybe, you were never really meant to be there. But even in the absence of an invitation, there's a small, stubborn part of you that still wishes you were remembered.  Sometimes, it’s not about going. It’s not about clearing your schedule, getting dressed, and showing up. Sometimes, it’s simply about being asked.  There’s a quiet kind of warmth in receiving an invitation—even when everyone involved knows you’re probably not coming. Maybe they already expect the polite decline. Maybe you, deep down, have no real desire to join the gathering. But still, the simple act of being included matters.   Because it's not really about the event. It’s about belonging.   It’s about knowing that someone thought of you—that someone wanted you there enough to extend a hand, even if they knew you might not take it. It’s feeling like you’re part of something,...