Journal Entry – November 17th

i’m not anyone’s first pick, i think. not even my friends. not even my family’s first choice

It’s not something people ever say out loud, not in the way that matters. But you can feel it in the pauses, in the way eyes search a room and pass you over. Like they’re scanning for someone better someone more fun.. more enjoyable, less.. me

I used to think it was just in my head. That maybe I was paranoid, or insecure, or reading into things too much. But you can only be the afterthought so many times before you realize it’s not imagination. It’s reality

At school, they picked teams for gym today. Again. I stood at the back, hands stuffed in my pockets, pretending to not care. Pretending like I didn’t already know how it would end. They called name after name, laughter echoing, sneakers squeaking, and then.. finally. just me.. alone. One team sighed. Not even trying to hide it

It stings, in this slow, dull way. Not like a slap.. sharper. things fade faster. This is more like a splinter deep in the skin. hard to find, impossible to ignore. It builds over time, until everything you do feels like proof that they were right to pick someone else

Even at home, it’s there. My brother gets the proud smiles. My sister’s jokes are the ones they remember. I speak, and it’s as if no one hears me until someone else repeats what I said. Then suddenly it’s worth listening to. Maybe my voice is just invisible

I don’t think anyone means to hurt me. I really don’t. I think they just… forget to include me. Forget to see me. Like I’m wallpaper, always there, easily ignored unless it starts to peel.

I wonder sometimes if I vanished, how long it would take for someone to notice. A day? A week? Would they look at my empty chair and remember my name? Or would it just be quieter.. easier?