Sooyvu's poem follows a small, painful cycle. At first the speaker keeps every promise: getting out of bed, going outside, making friends. Each step is short and plain, and the repeated "so I did" sounds almost like a quiet victory. Then the pattern breaks. The speaker hurts the friends they swore never to hurt, and the friends, in turn, let the speaker down too.
After that, the same promise-making turns backward. Instead of promising to move forward, the speaker promises to withdraw: no new friends, no going outside, no leaving bed. The poem ends where it began, only worse, because now the speaker has learned that trying costs something.
The mood is tired and quietly sad, with a bitter edge in the final question. "But no one actually keeps their promises right?" sounds like a shrug, but it also reads like an excuse, as if the speaker half hopes to break these new promises and be pulled back out into the world.