To be love like this

**PROLOGUE:** Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be truly talented? Since I was young, I have always loved learning new things. I tried sketching, painting, poetry, knitting, crocheting, singing, dancing, and so much more. While I learned many skills, I never truly excelled at any of them. I know I’m not stupid; I just don't feel smart enough to compete with those who shine in their fields. Isn’t it funny? I find it hard to know whether I am smart, stupid, or simply average. These feelings of frustration creep into my life, draining me to the point where I sometimes zone out completely. When stress overwhelms me, my world turns blank, as if my body is pleading for rest—a time-out. I used to have an incredibly vivid imagination, crafting long, elaborate stories that felt cinematic. Now, I seem to have lost that ability as if it was never mine; whenever I try to write, my mind seems to not work, and I can't produce a single sentence but rather a single word. I once sketched beautiful images that everyone praised and told me that I would become a great artist one day, but now I struggle to draw even a simple butterfly. I remember being good at photography, capturing all the fascinating views, yet now I can’t seem to find the right angles or lighting to capture a compelling shot. Do you ever feel this way? Like your life is monotonous and dull, blending each day into a gray haze? As if you are just going with the tides of life, unaware of where you will go. To the point you find it hard to tell whether you're happy or sad, just a lingering sense of fatigue and a longing for sleep—yet sleep eludes you. Finding yourself crying for no reason but having no choice but to continue doing every monotonous chore. Though I am thankful for what I have, I always feel that something is missing, not in my life but in myself. I am currently reading a novel inside my room, rolling left and right on my bed as I indulge myself in the world of fiction. At this time, the sun was already setting, hiding behind the clouds as its soft rays reflected in the smooth glass window. Slowly closing my book, leaving a bookmark for the part I am reading, and gently putting it on the side of my bed. My eyes landed on the window, eventually focusing on my reflection. Messy, straight black hair with a hint of brown on the ends that haven't been brushed for two consecutive days, pale complexion and cracked lips due to dehydration and skipped meals, wearing a baggy white shirt and pajamas. I am a total mess. Feeling my rumbling stomach, I contemplate whether I should eat or wait for dinner. I lay on my bed again, covering myself with a blanket as I hid my face under the pillow, feeling the same hollowness inside me again. I want to read. Reaching out my hand to my book, I start reading again to remove the emptiness I'm feeling, drowning myself in the world of fiction that somehow made me fill those hollow parts. Running away from my dark world, embracing the only world that made me feel included. Not noticing the time, my room's door opened. It was my older sister, Ara. “Hey, it's dinner time, when do you plan to get up?” She asked with her usual attitude voice. I then heard my grandma's voice. “That's how she is every day, not doing anything; she is so lazy! Goodness with that kid! I was asking for her to do something and she'll be all grumpy and laze around her bed like she is so tired when she is doing nothing!” My grandma ranted more as I just covered my ears with my pillows. I felt my sister's piercing gaze, so I decided to get up. I felt the heavy and suffocating tightness in my chest again. Choosing to ignore it again, I ate a small portion of dinner, stopping myself to eat more. Grandma spoke again. “Goodness, take the soup, and here's the egg! Don't be so picky; you are not the daughter of a millionaire!” She ranted again about how lazy, unfilial, and all my wrongdoings. When Ara spoke with her, her voice calmed down, and she started happily talking with her. I'm jealous. I know I shouldn't feel this way but how can't I? I want to talk with them like that, too; I wanna join the conversation, but whenever I do so, it's either they'll stop or will move to another topic. I blankly stood up to put my dishes on the sink and walked back again to my room. The moment I entered, I heard grandma's dissatisfaction with my actions yet I didn't mind and went to study. Staring at the sticky notes on the walls with my schoolwork, I took out my notebook to write notes. I could hear their happy laughter in the living room, a conversation I knew I'd never fit in. I put my earphones on to listen to some music as I study, making sure I won't hear them and lose the motivation I have to study. I studied until my eyes felt like they were on fire there, and I decided to take a break and open my phone to read the latest Manhwa update when my door suddenly opened. “Is that what studying looks like?” My grandma spoke. Her voice is sharp. “Turn off the lights and go to sleep, you still have class tomorrow.” She then slammed the door. I just sigh in that normal reaction. After turning off the light and putting the lamp on, I went to bed and hid under my blanket to read on my phone. This is my fresh air to everything. My eyes were starting to get heavy as I fell asleep with my phone in hand. The darkness swallowed me as I got into a deep slumber, dreaming about the most random things in the world.