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there’s something heavy about being “the one who gets it.”

people around you don’t even say it anymore — it’s just… expected.
you’re the one who won’t argue.
the one who’ll take the high road.
the one who’ll suppress the scream, wipe your own tears, and get back to studying like nothing happened.

and yeah, okay — i do get it.
i am mature.
i am focused (most days).
i’m preparing for NEET, and it’s not a joke.
i’ve seen people break down under the pressure of it, and i know i don’t have the luxury to fall apart.

but… does that mean i can’t smile without guilt?
does that mean i can’t want things other than a college seat and a “secured future”?

because i swear, it feels like the second i even breathe outside of the bubble — if i laugh too hard, watch a kdrama, dance too much, text someone for too long, or god forbid, fall for someone — it’s like i’m failing some invisible test everyone’s watching me take.

and i'm just… tired.

and then there’s the whole eldest sibling thing.
which basically means:
you are the emotional backup parent.
the fixer, even when you see your parents saying many a thing sometimes.
the helper, always being there for the younger one.
the one who sets the example, the one who paves the way.
the one who gets the “you should’ve known better” every single time.

but who’s there for you?
no, seriously.
who looks at you and says, “it’s okay, you don’t have to be strong right now”?

no one.
because you’re the strong one. the dependable one. the calm one.
even when you’re barely holding it together.

i miss being a person.

i miss laughing without calculating how much time i just “wasted.”

i miss music — not the kind that plays while i study, but the kind that makes me feel something.
the kind BTS makes.
stuff like “zero o'clock” that sounds like maybe — just maybe — the world can pause long enough to breathe with me.

because right now, the world doesn’t breathe. it pushes.

you know what else no one tells you?

that growing up is lonely.

you realize people wear masks — not the kind we wore during covid, but the kind that hides their actual faces.

they smile, they nod, they play roles, they judge people they don't even know.
they say things like “just focus” or “you’re being too emotional” or "you're mature enough to know this"
when really, they’re just afraid to feel themselves.

everyone’s pretending.
some are pretending to be strong, cool, a facade.
some are pretending to be better than others.
some are pretending they’re not dying to cry in the bathroom.

and me? i think i’m pretending that i’m okay with pretending.

and if i’m being honest…

sometimes i do cry.
not the pretty, cute, aesthetic kind.
i mean those quiet, random 3AM breakdowns.
like when it’s raining so loud outside, and i’ve got music blasting in my ears — not because i want to enjoy it, but because i need it to drown out the noise in my own head.

the pressure never fully leaves.
it just sits there like some unspoken weight on my chest.

people say things like,

“you’re the topper, it’s easy for you.”
“you’re so sorted, so mature.”
“you’ll definitely crack NEET.”
“you’re our hope.”

and i smile.
nod.
say “yeah, trying my best” or “hmm good, hopefully” or “working on it.”
but inside? i’m screaming:
it’s not easy.
it’s not always okay, maybe it's never okay ig.
and sometimes, i don’t even want to be the hope.

because being the “hope” means you’re not allowed to fall.
you’re not allowed to break.
you’re not even allowed to be tired.

but the thing is…

there’s a life outside of all this too.
and no one seems to care that i want that life just as much.

i want to travel the whole world —
ride trains through mountains, visit the most random yet beautiful places, take blurry photos of places and strangers, lose myself in places where no one knows my name.
i want to learn photography — not as a “side hobby,” but as something that matters to me.

i want to make music, i want to study bizarre subjects. 
i want to write things and stories that move people... through lyrics and poems and canvases.
i want to try every damn adventure sport that makes people scream. i want to get a freaking tattoo for god's sake and get drunk on the same night cuz i got one LOL
i want to learn new languages, scripts, real finances, and every new thing that i can get into my brain.
i want to cry over fictional characters and binge an entire series on a tuesday night just because i feel like it.

i want to live a life that isn’t always strategic and productive and “worth it.”

and maybe the saddest thing is:
all of that is stuck in my head.

i live it in my daydreams.
i see it in vlogs and moodboards.
i watch it in BTS videos, where they’re running free, holding cameras, laughing under open skies…

and then i look back at myself:
book open, clock ticking, back straight, eyes tired, pretending this is what i only ever wanted.

but it’s not.

but yes, 

i’m not ungrateful.
i know i’m lucky to even have a shot at a future. i do know that i want to be a doctor since i was a little kid who wants to heal people and make them happier, giving them a second shot at life.

but it’s also okay to want more than survival.

because life isn’t just about exams and “settling.”
it’s about feeling. creating. exploring. messing up. dreaming. trying. again and again and again.

i guess i just want to ask

is it too much to be perfect and still be human?

because honestly, i don’t want to be the mature one right now.
i want to be the one who’s scared, confused, excited, vulnerable —
the one who feels everything all at once and doesn’t apologize for it.

i want to be me.

and for once…
i want that to be enough.