The Isochronism

Dear... Hypothetical.

I wish I still cared, about... well anything. I used to love this forum, although maybe it was just my need for validation from people who don't know me well enough to reject me. 

I used to love writing, books, speeches, essays... letters. And now I can barely even type. 

I broke 5 in my last mile race, which just a year ago would have made me so happy, and now I barely care. 

Now there's only one thing I care about, but eventually I know I'll lose her too. 

If I was sad, or stressed, I'd be okay, because I would care. I know how that feels. But this apathy is terrifying.

I've wanted to ask the few followers who still read these, what's the point? What's the point of these status updates, of these conversations, of these games and five-paragraph theories. What's the point of having friends here? We all spend our nights telling ourselves stories about each other, who the others might be in relation to us. But the truth is, we all live in our own universe. Completely isolated. All this beauty might as well be fake, right? Even this status update looks show-offy on a page, because these words are meant to be spoken. And not to just anyone, but to someone who loves me, cares about me, or even just knows me. So why am I writing to you? Dear, Hypothetical reader? Because it's easy. It's easy to complain to one or two people I'll never meet. It's easier to make you feel my burden, because nobody 'real' deserves to carry it. Neither do you, really. But you won't. Because I'm one name, one profile, and one status update among thousands.

I've been gone for weeks, and I come back to see I got four reputation points. And... that made me way happier than it should have. The happiness immediately turned into guilt when I realized how much weight I put in that online number, that should be meaningless. I'm addicted to the feeling that someone cares. And so I become more preformative, I start saying things to get reputation instead of saying them to make this space happier. It's all so fake. You're all so hypothetical. 

Even this. I want those replies, those points, that feeling that someone is watching. But it'll never be enough. So please, just this once, don't love this update. I need this to be for something more than reputation, and that's the only way to prove this letter is different. 

What's the point? I don't deserve to be remembered, but I just want to stop feeling alone. I turn here to this fictional, preformative profile, because reality isn't enough for me. What's the point of staying in either reality? We're all alone. And I don't deserve to be here. You don't want to know... me. 

Thank you for making me feel real.