The last smile part 2

The world hadn't changed. It never did. Despite all the promises, all the frantic hopes I clung to, it remained indifferent. Every morning, the faces of strangers and friends alike held that same vacant, mechanical expression. They were actors in a play they never questioned. And I? I was just another character, stuck in a script I didn't write.

I tried, oh how I tried, to escape the loop. To break free of the suffocating cage that had formed around my existence. But no matter what I did, the echo of others' disapproval rang in my ears. Their remarks, casual and cold, about my failures left me frozen. What else could I do but smile back, pretending that I still believed there was something to hope for? My teeth felt sharp against my lips, a mask. After all, in this absurd world, what else is there but to keep playing the game?

My parents – well, they loved me, I think. They must have. But every time I saw that flash of disappointment in their eyes, it felt like my insides were withering. What was I even thinking? Why did I think I could be anything more than what they had already shaped me to be? But still, I marched on, numb. The world wouldn't change, not for me. If I wanted to exist, I had to bend. There was no other option. I was the architect of my own failure, after all.

The weight of that failure was like an anchor tied to my chest. It sank deeper every day, a constant pressure that no one else could feel. I wanted to scream, to tear at my skin, but who would hear me? Who would care? The world is too busy, too preoccupied with its own chaotic rhythm, to listen to the muffled cry of a single person. My younger self had failed me, and I had failed him in return. I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing him again.

So I adjusted. I became more social. Like an actor playing a role, pretending to fit into a world I no longer understood. But I wasn't sure if I was acting to please them or to avoid being alone. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was everything and nothing at once. I threw myself into the crowd, smiling, laughing—like a puppet whose strings I couldn't see.

But sometimes, in the darkest hours, I thought of another world. A fantasy world. A place where none of this absurdity mattered. A world where I wasn't just an echo, a shadow of expectations. What if, I wondered, what if I had been isekaied—taken to a new life where I could finally matter? Where the rules were different? Where I could be with someone who understood the chaos inside my head?

I needed her. I needed someone. I needed a connection so deep, so raw, it could anchor me to something real. I wanted a girlfriend, not just for company, but because in that desperate need for her, I thought maybe I could feel… something again. Maybe she could make all the noise and confusion fade for a moment. Maybe she could understand.

But that was the crux of it, wasn't it? Why would anyone like me, a former shut-in, a failed man, want to be with someone like me? What kind of person would I be in her eyes? Just a shadow, a man unworthy of even the simplest affection. Maybe my loneliness was just a phase, something I had to outgrow. But it felt like a deep, gnawing hunger inside me. I wanted her. I wanted someone to see me, to understand me. I wanted her to look at me and not see my failures, but someone she could be with.

I didn't just want her for the fleeting joy of romance, though. I wanted someone to hold me when the weight of the world became unbearable. I wanted to cry on her shoulder, to feel her warmth in a world so cold. But even more than that, I wanted to share with her the things that haunted me—the silent pain that pulsed through my chest when no one else was looking.

I wanted to feel complete.. I wanted to fill the other half of my heart..

I dreamed of the mundane, the simple moments that could fill the void. Holding hands while watching a favorite show. Sharing a cotton candy on a hot summer day. Laughing over something silly, having that quiet connection where time didn't matter. I wanted to feel that spark, that tiny fire of affection that makes everything else feel like it might be worth it.

But who would want me? I was a shell of a person, a former ghost, crawling through a world that barely acknowledged my existence. My thoughts spiraled. What if that spark never came? What if I was doomed to chase after this ghost of love, this impossible fantasy, and never find anyone who could understand me?

I had been living my entire life for others, molding myself to fit their expectations, burying my own desires beneath their needs. I had given everything to be accepted, to avoid the sting of rejection. But what had it all led to? Why had I worked so hard to please a world that would never care? What did it all matter? What was the purpose of this life if not to be seen, to feel something genuine for once?

As I walked past the basketball court while thinking all of this, I saw her. At first, she was just a figure among others, standing still. But then she turned. And I saw it. The same vacant eyes. The same deep-rooted uncertainty. She wasn't different. She wasn't someone else. It was me.

The realization hit like a slap across my face. She wasn't another person. She was me—a reflection, a twisted version of myself, standing in the real world instead of a broken mirror. The same disappointment, the same existential emptiness. It was like looking at a distorted version of my soul.

And in that moment, I understood. The world was absurd. It always had been. This search for meaning, for connection, for love, for purpose—it was all a game we played because we didn't know what else to do. But in the end, nothing mattered. The universe didn't care. It was indifferent. I was indifferent.

I smiled.

Not because I had found some profound truth. Not because I was happy or content. But because in that smile, I acknowledged it all. I acknowledged the absurdity, the chaos, and the meaninglessness. And it didn't matter. It never had.

After all, if the universe was a joke, what was left but to laugh?We are like an atom in this universe... Too small, the universe don't even care so why shall I??

I just smiled at the sky while thinking about the odds of being borned as a human..what is it?? Zero.. I suppose.... The god, where is it?? - Sky or in the hopes of our better futures.. . I don't want to have any fake hopes..Neither I want to believe something will change because it won't.. In the end.. What an absurd world it is..Isn't it??

Maybe, I am smiling one last time