what is grief, if not love persevering.

I don’t hate people. I just don’t like being around them for too long.

Socializing feels like a performance—one I never signed up for. The small talk, the forced smiles, the constant pressure to be on. It drains me in ways I can’t even explain.

I like my own company. The quiet, the stillness, the freedom to just exist without expectation. I don’t crave constant interaction, and honestly, I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing.

But sometimes, I wonder—do people see me as cold? Distant?

Do they mistake my silence for indifference?

Because the truth is, I do care. I just show it differently.

I’d rather sit in comfortable silence than force a conversation. I’d rather have one deep connection than a hundred surface-level friendships. And I’d rather be alone than surrounded by people who don’t really see me.

Maybe that makes me asocial.

“I like being alone. I have control over my own shit. Therefore, in order to win me over, your presence has to feel better than my solitude.