I am writing this at 3 a.m.
The night of my college's annual fest.
Everyone is finally asleep, exhausted after three days of chaos, lights, music, and noise. A DJ night that shook the campus on the 2nd of April, and a concert tonight that everyone will probably remember for a long time.
It was fun.
At least for everyone else.
While the campus rests, I sit awake not because I'm not tired, but because something inside me refuses to switch off. Something that followed me back from the crowd, from the music, from the noise… and now sits quietly with me in this room.
The last time I wrote was on 17th January 2026.
Today, it's 5th April 2026.
Almost three months.
Strange, right?
Why didn't I write?
Where was I?
Was I too busy? Too distracted? Writing something else?
No.
I had time. I had thoughts. I had everything I needed.
I just didn't feel like writing.
Which is strange… because writing is my favourite thing to do.
So why today?
Two years ago, in 12th grade, I was isolated preparing for a competitive exam, cut off from everything. No excitement, no distractions, just books and silence.
Then college happened.
People. Friends. Laughter. Conversations. Late evenings. Random plans.
For the first time in a long time, I felt alive again.
But…
Somewhere in the past month, something flipped.
And I don't know when.
I am no longer that version of myself, the one who laughed easily, who wanted to be around people, who found joy in small things.
Now, everything feels… distant.
The strange part?
Nothing bad happened.
Life, on paper, is good.
Good friends. Good food. Playing my favourite sport. No major problems.
And yet… something inside me quietly shut down.
I realised it fully tonight.
In the middle of the concert, surrounded by music, lights, people dancing, shouting, recording moments, all I could think was:
"When can I go back to my room?"
Not because I was tired.
But because I didn't belong there anymore.
And that's when it hit me.
It's not the concert.
It's everything.
Nothing excites me anymore.
I don't look forward to anything.
Except going back to my room… and being alone.
And no I am not sad. Not heartbroken. Not depressed in the dramatic sense.
There's no story behind this.
It's just… gradual and weird.
I sit quietly. I study. I work. I exist.
No highs. No lows. Just a flat line.
Things I once loved don't interest me anymore.
I don't feel like writing.
Don't feel like playing games.
Don't feel like watching anything.
Don't feel like talking.
I can listen. I prefer listening.
But when it's my turn to speak, I have nothing.
It was my old habit, listening to songs while working or studying, I couldn't believe it when one day I turned the music off because I wasn't enjoying it. And it's been two weeks since, I haven't used my headphones to listen to music.
No stories. No excitement. No urge.
It's like I'm present everywhere… but involved nowhere.
And the worst part?
People around me care.
My friends try. They include me. They check on me.
They notice when I zone out mid-conversation.
They ask, "What happened?"
And I lie.
I say it's a headache. Migraine. Just tired.
Because how do I explain something I don't understand myself?
Even I thought this was temporary.
A phase. A few off days.
It doesn't feel like that anymore.
Now, when I'm around people, I perform.
I laugh when I'm supposed to.
I react when expected.
I pretend to enjoy.
Not because I want to fool them, but because I don't want to ruin their moment.
I've seen it how one dull presence can lower the energy of an entire group.
I refuse to be that person.
So I act.
And while I act, there's only one thought running in the background:
"When will this end so I can go back to my room?"
A month ago, I bought Netflix with my saved allowance.
I haven't watched a single thing.
Not because I didn't get time, but because I never felt like it.
The last time I felt genuinely excited… was on 25th March.
Someone special's birthday.
That's it.
Since then…nothing.
I feel guilty sometimes.
Because my friends deserve better energy.
Better presence. A better version of me.
And yet, despite how boring, how distant, how numb I've become — they stay.
They don't leave.
Which makes it harder.
Because now I feel responsible not to ruin things for them.
So I've started learning something new:
How to hide it better.
How to smile at the right time.
How to laugh just enough.
How to stay present… without actually feeling present.
Maybe this is temporary.
Maybe it's not.
I don't know.
But I do know one thing, no matter how I feel about life right now…
I still love my people.
I still care.
I'll listen to them. Support them. Show up when they need me.
Even if I can't match their energy, I won't let my silence take away from their happiness.
And maybe, someday…..I'll find my way back.
Back to that version of me who felt things deeply.
Who laughed without thinking.
Who didn't have to pretend.
I don't know when.
But I want him back.