I Did Everything Right

I don’t know how I got here.

I don’t know how I ended up here. In this point in life that feels like a trailer park, somewhere in a tiny city where everyone stares.

They all stare like it’s their business, don’t they? Blaming you for where you are, even though none of it was your fault. You didn’t chose a crappy trailer park kind-of-life.

Outside this figurative trailer park, though, people think it’s a castle that I should somehow be thankful for. But if this part is a castle, then I’m in the cliche tower, locked away far from any kind of happiness.

But hey, it’s a castle, right? Shame on me for not being grateful.

Don’t they get that I see happiness in a book, and also a mango-scented candle? How can I tell them that I don’t want any of it? Not the trailer park, nor the castle, but all I crave is the life I imagined. The life I put together in my mind, though it just feels like clippings of the stories I dove into to escape.

Oh, how I’d love to escape. Didn’t I do everything right?