Who am I?
It's a question I ask myself every single day.
Who am I, really?
I'm old enough to have answers, but I don't.
I don't know who I am anymore, what I want, or what I'm supposed to become.
Not knowing is what destroys me the most.
I don't know what I want.
I don't know who I want.
I don't even know who I'm supposed to love.
I'm living a double life.
And I'm tired of it.
I want a normal life.
A wife. A family. Something real.
But at the same time, I keep making choices that take me further away from that life.
If you're wondering whether I'm happy…
No. I'm not.
There's something wrong with me.
Maybe it's something deeper. Maybe something I don't understand yet.
Sometimes it feels like I'm not searching for happiness at all…
but punishing myself instead.
So tell me—
Do you want to hear my story?
Do you want to hear about the things I've done?
Because there's a lot.
More than you can imagine.
And not all of it is easy to hear.