To the people who know I exist

I feel it's that time again, where everything feels like it's slowly moving away from me, discreetly, bit by bit, slowly but surely. It isn't the kind of pain I feel when my heart breaks, or the kind of agony that exists when something dies...but it's there like a leech, sucking the life out of me.

For someone who has everything she ever wanted, for someone who has been blessed in many other ways, I feel as lonely as ever. It's the kind of loneliness that makes me think "maybe this is how it's supposed to be", because it isn't the first time it has happened, and in a way, it has always been there, hiding under my skin waiting for that moment where I detach myself from someone or something. In that particular moment where I feel vulnerable and easy to break, that's when it hits me, and I welcome it with open arms because I can't do anything else about it. "Welcome back", I say. "What lesson am I supposed to learn from this one?"

I lack the ability to sustain a close friendship, and yet I'm the most dedicated person there is when it comes to it. I give advice, I help, and I look for my friends, even if they don't ask for any of it. I give it all because I care, but maybe that's the problem. Maybe the problem is they didn't ask for it, so they don't want it. Maybe they don't hold me near their hearts like I hold them. Maybe I'm just a name in a huge list of people, a number, a picture, a tag, or an email address. Nothing more than 5 minutes of a brief conversation. Maybe I'm just a voice heard once every 2 months. Maybe I'm the missed calls in someone's cellphone, or the vast amount of silly statuses on a profile.

Maybe I'm not supposed to care so much. Maybe it's normal to ignore and hurt. Maybe that's part of being in a friendship. Maybe I'm overreacting about it all. Maybe I'm the joke of a non-existent conspiracy between friends. Paranoia leads to wrong assumptions. Wrong assumptions lead to a slow detachment. And that detachment will either end in:

a) me being a bitch for not wanting to be friends anymore, then feeling guilty about it
b) me disappearing and the person not noticing/caring

If B happens, then the joke's on me for thinking a person would care enough to look for me, something I have done many times for other people.

But the truth is...the joke has been on me for a long time, I just never wanna face it, because I hope for better tomorrows, and always see the brighter side of things. I'm the good girl, the kind of girl you can always count on, the emotional punching bag, the shoulder to virtually cry on but to never appreciate. Well, not anymore.


[or so I say]