I used to think there was something wrong with me.Not in a dramatic way.Just... every time someone left, every time I got replaced, every time I ended up being the person people forgot first, I couldn’t help wondering if I was the common denominator.Maybe I wasn’t interesting enough.Maybe I wasn’t important enough.Maybe some people were simply easier to love.After a while, you stop asking questions.You stop expecting people to stay.You stop believing you’ll ever be someone’s first choice.So you learn how to exist quietly.You learn how to take up less space.You learn how to watch other people become the center of the story while you stand somewhere near the edge, pretending it doesn’t bother you.And eventually, it becomes normal.At least, that’s what I thought.