sometimes

Sometimes it’s hard. 

It’s hard hearing other couples say “I love you” - like it’s the easiest thing in the world - but never hearing it said to me. 

Nearly five years together, and so much that has been said between us - but a million other words could never replace those three.

And it’s hard not to think that it’s me. 

That it’s because I am inherently unlovable. 

And I know that I am. 

Unlovable.

I know that I am. 

Because it’s not just now - it’s never. 

I’ve never heard those words.

At least, not directed to me.

And when I say it’s hard - what I mean to say is that it’s heart wrenching. 

Going to bed alone. 

Waking up - alone. 

Sitting next to you at the table, talking to you - alone, because your eyes are focused down and your attention- your priorities - are a figurative mile away.

It’s hard not to wish I were miles away - because I’ve never been lonelier than when I’m sitting by your side. 

And sometimes it’s exhausting. 

Exhausting always being the one to text, or to call, or to send gifts - never missing a birthday or a Christmas or an excuse for “just because.” 

Never missing a chance to say that you’re on my mind. 

Asking how you are. 

Asking after your job and your parents and your family. 

Always being the one saying, “I’m thinking of you” - day after day - and still going months on end without a response. 

And then I start to wonder if the silence means that you’re not thinking of me. 

Even when my name pops up on your screen - you’re not thinking of me. 

But of course you’re not - because why would you? 

I’m just background noise. 

The one who’s always there. 

By the time we’re this age, most people have enough friends - so they’ll hardly notice if a few drop off, fade to silence and never come back. 

And anyway, I’m only the kind of friend people keep around when they need me. 

The kind of friend they assume will always be there - just at the end of the line, should they ever wish to give it a little tug. 

Always asking how you are, and never bothering to burden you with my grief or fear or sorrow. 

I’m the friend whose silence goes unnoticed - until it’s too late. 

Because it’s exhausting. 

It’s exhausting being the only one who cares. 

Being the only one trying to keep the loose ends tied together. 

Trying to make this work. 

Reaching out, offering to be there, offering my love and loyalty - for nothing in return. It’s exhausting. 

And when I say exhausting -

Well, you probably already know.