All I'll ever be...

I’m so tired of getting excited for something new, just for someone new to feel the opposite about me.

I’m just an object to fill a void.

All I’ll ever be to anyone is just a place setting, to use as they need. Then to be stored in a dark corner until I’m needed again.

Why do I always feel disappointed? Why is my excitement always met with lackluster? Will anyone ever be excited about me?

Or is being unhappy and monotone all I have to look forward to in life?

Is that where happiness lies? In the mundane? If so, I am not destined to be happy.

I feel too much.

I feel too big.

I am too much.

I am too big.

It’s all I’ll ever be…