I think it has been part of my daily routine to mourn and lament about my life. About how others live better than me. How I've been an oversight and an outcast. But today I dispensed myself of that routine, for predictably one day (old habits die hard), and come to a realisation that I deserve them all. That I deserve to just forever feel pathetic about my myself. That I deserve to feel nothing but grave jealousy at successes of others. That I deserve to not ever be complacent about my anticipatory fate.
Because I am small. A small person. Never a person with a big heart - big enough to give and to not think about returns. Never had a big personality - which could have come in handy to wow and impress. Never one with big, bold strides - big and bold enough to extend my hand and know a stranger; big and bold enough to go the mile and accept a challenge. And I am certainly not a person with evident humility - not enough to admit mistakes and contain the embarrassment.
The only thing big in me is my ego. Always placing myself above everyone else. Always finding fault in others. Always attaching exorbitant value on myself to lives of others. That their lives revolve around me.
The truth is, I'm a nobody. Their lives go on with, or without me.
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