I've come to the painful realization that I've never truly treated myself to anything meaningful. All the generosity I extended was directed outwardly—video games, a laptop, and various gifts for friends. Strangely, neither the laptop nor the games I bestowed upon someone else ever saw any use.
I'm left wondering what it's like to receive a gift simply because someone was thinking of me, rather than as reciprocation for the things I gave. As I reflect, I question the authenticity of those friendships. It seems they were more about what they could gain from me, as now, the once-frequent contact has dwindled, and they don't bother to check in on me.
With Christmas and my birthday looming, the silence amplifies. I brace myself for the absence of any thoughtful gesture, realizing that perhaps those connections were never genuine. It's a stark reality to accept, and the loneliness feels palpable as I confront the likelihood that my generosity was merely a means for others to exploit.
