Her struggles

--- Chapter 1: I’m 18… and Already Tired --- I turned 18 last month. There were no fireworks. No cake. No “welcome to adulthood” speech. Just me, my mother yelling in the background, a half-cooked bowl of indomie, and a voice in my head whispering, > "This is your life now." I used to think 18 would feel different. Maybe I'd wake up feeling powerful, like I finally had control. Instead, I feel... tired. And it’s only just beginning. --- College is choking me. Assignments piling. Lecturers who don’t even know my name. My part-time job at the local café keeps me on my feet for hours, fake smiling at customers who don’t even look at me twice. Then I come home and still get asked, > “What have you even done today, Priya?” As if existing isn’t already a full-time job. --- But then there's Raph. I met him two weeks ago. He’s… different. Soft-spoken. Gentle. And the way he says my name? It makes me feel seen. And I hate that. Because I promised myself not to fall for anyone while my own world is falling apart. He always finds me after class. Says something stupid to make me laugh. Walks me to the bus stop like it’s a duty. > “You're strong, Priya,” he told me once. “But even strong people need somewhere to rest.” And for a second… I almost let myself believe I could rest in him. --- But tonight, I cried in the bathroom. Again. Silent tears. The kind you cry when you know no one will come check on you anyway. I wrote a poem in my head: > I’m 18 With war in my heart And roses in my smile They don’t know I'm breaking But I do it with style. --- Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and do it all again. College. Work. Pretending. Smiling. Surviving. Because I’m Priya. And apparently, being 18 means learning how to carry the world — before you even know how to carry yourself. --- To be continued… What's next?watch out for chapter 2 If this story touched your heart please make a tip : Your support mean everything 👇 Thanks. bitcoincash:qzw00vxp0za0g8ate68lpv9ljkr4dgh3myj22r39yc