I used to believe kindness always found its way back home.
So I gave people everything I could. Time. Effort. Patience. Pieces of myself. I helped classmates review for exams even when my own notes remained untouched. I stayed awake listening to midnight breakdowns while silently drowning in my own. I became the person everyone ran to when life became too heavy.
And I let them.
College felt like a place where your happiness was just taken away from you the moment you stepped inside it’s campus. The hallways were loud with hurried footsteps and nervous laughter, while exhaustion clung to me like rainwater on fabric. My bag was always heavy with modules, unfinished papers, and responsibilities that never seemed to end. Yet despite my own struggles, I still reached my hand out to others.
I thought that if I became soft enough for the world, the world would someday become soft for me too.
But kindness is not something you can expect to always find its way back to you.
Sometimes, it is a candle—melting itself slowly just to keep others warm.
One rainy evening, my dorm room felt unbearably small. The fluorescent light above me flickered weakly, casting pale shadows against the walls. Papers were scattered across the floor like wounded birds, and the silence around me felt sharper than broken glass. My chest ached with a sadness so deep it felt physical, as if grief itself had wrapped its icy fingers around my ribs.
For the first time in a long while, I asked for help.
Not money. Not grand gestures. Just comfort. Just someone to remind me I did not have to carry everything alone.
“Can I talk to you?”
Seen.
“I’m really tired.”
No reply.
One by one, the people I once stayed awake for disappeared into silence. Some were online laughing with friends. Some ignored me completely. The same people I once carried so gently could not spare even a moment to hold me together.
And there I was—curled against the cold tiled floor, hugging my knees while tears fell quietly into my lap. I realized then that the world could be unbearably unfair. Sometimes, no matter how much kindness you pour into others, life still hands you emptiness in return.
The saddest part is that the kindest people often suffer in silence. They become so busy saving everyone else that no one notices they are drowning too. That night, I realized the world really is…
oppressive and soul-crushing.
Written by Kiyoshi
Kiyoshi is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
