I have lost people I liked. Some to death, Some to time, but entirely to life itself. They have drifted to different parts of the world, carried away by dreams, responsibilities, and choices I was not part of. Some left in search of success, chasing careers and ambitions that took them far. Some fell in love and built new lives with people I will never meet. Some simply faded away, like a conversation that never had a proper ending.
And now I look around and realize I do not belong here. The world is full of people, but I feel like I am standing alone in a crowd.
Everywhere I turn, I see people who are nothing like me.
There are the practical ones who treat life as a set of instructions. Wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. They do not ask if they are happy. They do not wonder about the meaning of it all. They simply exist, moving forward without hesitation. I wish I could be like them. Life would be easier if my mind did not wander so much.
Then there are the carefree ones who do not overthink or analyze. They do not replay conversations in their heads. They do not wonder if they said the wrong thing or if they could have done something differently. They let go so easily. I envy them. I wish I knew what it felt like to exist without the weight of my own thoughts.
The cynics believe everything is a lie, a trick, a scam. They refuse to dream because dreaming only leads to disappointment. They scoff at hope, convinced that nothing good lasts. I do not want to be like them, but sometimes their words make too much sense.
The blind optimists pretend everything is fine, even when the world is falling apart. They smile through pain, force happiness, and refuse to acknowledge the darkness. I want to believe in hope, but I do not want to be blind to reality.
The detached never dive deep. They keep everything at a safe distance, afraid to feel too much, afraid to be seen. The shallow never talk about anything real. They fill the silence with words that mean nothing.
The social butterflies collect people like trophies. They are surrounded by friends, yet I wonder if they ever feel truly known. The career-driven see relationships as distractions. The love-obsessed see careers as meaningless. The ego-driven need to be the smartest in every room. The people-pleasers silence their own voices so others can be heard.
I do not belong among them. I have tried, but I always feel like I am standing outside, watching through a glass wall.
I think too much. I feel too much. I care too much. I get lost in my own thoughts and struggle to come back. I live in my head, and when I step outside of it, I want to find people who understand.
So I pray.
I pray to be surrounded by overthinkers, people who dissect the world the way I do, who ask questions that have no simple answers.
I pray for the sensitive, who feel everything deeply and do not apologize for it.
I pray for the passionate, the ones who burn for something, who have obsessions, who lose themselves in ideas, in art, in creation.
I pray for those who chase their work not just for money, but because they need purpose.
I pray for the intellectuals, who crave conversations that last for hours, who do not settle for the obvious answer, who challenge the way the world is seen.
I pray for the kindhearted, because intelligence without kindness is just another form of cruelty.
Let them find me. Let me find them. Let us recognize each other in this vast, endless world, so I do not have to feel like I am wandering alone anymore.