I experienced a great deal of euphoria while in the womb of my mother. A kind of euphoria that has never once been replicated since I slipped from betwixt the thighs of the matriarch. Happiness to me consists of a stress-free environment with everything going according to plan, just the way you’d expect them to go. For those nine months of darkness… I was happy. Everything went smoothly. Did you know that fetuses undergo rapid eye movement? That is to say they dream. In my slumbers, I dreamt of nothing special. I only wanted a friend back then, so my dreams mostly consisted of socialization between Zglorp and I. That’s what I called the figure in my dreams, unfortunately. A rather mess of a name looking back, but then again I was really young at the time, so give me some credit. Anyway, in my dreams, Zglorp was the only person who cared for me. I would sleep, then dream about waking up in the same exact spot I fell asleep in, only to be embraced in a warm hug. Zglorp emitted this charming scent. A smell that is still unexplainable. It drew me closer to this imaginary being, but the second I withdrew from this alternate reality I felt alone again. Zglorp was nowhere to be seen, or for that matter, smelt. The only thing I wanted in the womb was a friend, but now everything is different. I still desire to be loved, but now I have to deal with various other social complications. Rejection, embarrassment, failure, amounting to nothing, no plans for the future, no ideas worth sharing, harassment, being lied to, feeling judged, and an overall pessimistic outlook on life all attribute to me not saying anything. I’m just a loser, and I’m sure the others view me the same way. In fact, if it weren’t for the other people making me feel like a loser, the idea that I was one would have never crossed my mind. God, I miss being in utero. In those days, it was just me. The only other being there was only supportive of me, and even still, Zglorp didn’t exist. I often wish that every one of those cowards bashing me whenever I stood up didn’t exist either. Maybe then I could imagine them to be loving. To be honest, I sometimes pretend that they don’t exist. I fall asleep and dream of waking up in bed, being surrounded by the people who used to call me trash, and they’re all standing up and giving me a big hug and telling me I matter. It’s only when I wake up and I’m completely devoid of all happiness that I know I’m in reality.