Maybe, just maybe, you can see me screaming. Maybe, instead of blaming me for making you feel ‘forgotten’ or ‘alone’ you can see how I feel. Maybe, you can ask, or perhaps care, that I am not ok and that I cannot support you like I always have. Maybe, you need to pull the weight for change, and maybe you need to see that I am bleeding visibly and your lack of caring or perception. Maybe, you can fucking understand I can’t always hold you when you are crying when you yell at me for doing and feeling the same. Maybe, I will be of importance to someone who dares to ask how I truly feel and inquires why I do not seem the same. Maybe, you will learn to not use me when I am fully depleted, and maybe, you will be understanding when I cannot handle the stress. Maybe, you can see the progress I am making alone as I help you feel together. Maybe, I will die and you will see this. I think it is the only way for any understanding to be reached. Maybe, I am as insignificant as you sometimes make me feel. Maybe, I deserve all the hurt and suffering I feel personally and vicariously through empathy. You deserve the best, and so I give you all I have of myself, but when I am struggling, you say I deserve more and desert your effort into those who leave you when you are sad. Maybe, you will see that my stubbornness is a wall of pain and mistrust, waiting for someone to prove me wrong. Maybe, I am that undefined question that you fuck up on a test because you don’t want to try anymore. Maybe, I am that friend you forget and then slightly remember at high school reunions. Maybe, I will be sacrificial to helping you live a better life. But for today, I am exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted. Do you not remember repetitive statements about pain, or swelling, or relapse? Did you just not care to pay attention? That’s ok. Because you are just proving to me exactly what I feel: Inadequate, insignificant, unloved, undermined, a fuck up, stupid, and selfish. You are proving to me that everyone doesn’t care. And the stupid thing is that I still give you the weight of importance that everyone could deny you. Because I care. And you do not care for me as I do for you, and you have no idea what to say other than “I’m Sorry”. Because all I am worth is those two words, and no actions. I am not worth the effort of comfort, or the dedication of time, and that is what I’ve given all of you at your lowest moments. I am not sorry. For once, you should be.