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Obligatory chatgpt trvke for times like these. Just in case you were thinking of sending her a happy valentine's dm (I'm sending one tonight)
There’s something uniquely soul-crushing about falling for an e-girl streamer, someone who exists just beyond the glass of my screen, so close yet infinitely out of reach. Every stream, every tweet, every half-hearted "love you guys" she throws to chat feels like a cruel tease, a distant echo of something real that I’ll never actually touch. I sit there, watching, listening, convincing myself that I understand her in a way others don’t, that maybe if she just noticed me—really noticed me—it would mean something. But she never will. Not in any way that matters. I’m just another name in the chat, another faceless donation, another fleeting interaction that vanishes the second she moves on. And yet, despite knowing this, I let myself sink deeper, obsessing over the smallest details—how she laughs, how she tucks her hair behind her ear, how she talks about her day as if I were part of it. But I’m not. I never will be. Because no matter how much time I spend orbiting her digital presence, no matter how much I know about her, she knows nothing about me. I could disappear tomorrow, and the world she inhabits would continue without even the slightest ripple. And the worst part? I know all of this. I know it’s pathetic. I know it’s unhealthy. And yet, I keep watching, keep hoping for some impossible moment where she looks through the screen and truly sees me. But the screen only works one way, and I am nothing more than another ghost in her endless sea of admirers.
