Why don’t you see it?
You’re difficult to understand, I’ll give you that. I can’t explain you when people ask. But I can say this, Every night I lay in bed, my eyes rimmed in fresh tears. I cry until I doubt there’s a tear left in me. All of your cutting words hack away at me. There’s almost nothing left. When will you see how badly you hurt me? I can hear you, you know, talking about me as if I can’t hear you. Through thin walls I hear every nasty word, every curse. Why can’t you understand I’m not perfect? I’m not even close. I’m just not want you wanted, so I guess I’m sorry. You do this every day now and I just can’t handle it. I bite back my words every time, forcing them back down my throat. I don’t want to make it worse; I just want it to be over. But even that doesn’t work most of the time. You’ll think I’m not listening, in one ear and out the other. You get mad at the blank face I make while I’m listening to you. What do you expect me to do? Smile? How can you not see how miserable I am? How miserable you make me.
Oh, how I wish I could just run away and leave this all behind. But I am not a stupid person. I can never escape, because I would be miserable still. So I am a masochist, loving you despite you’re slander. Besides running away from your problems does not solve them, it makes them worse. Only the weak run.
Do you hear the hypocrisy in your words? How can people not see the dark skeleton you cleverly conceal with a skin of false perfection? You always tell me the same thing, “You can sit around and be unhappy or you can get up and do something about it,” I hate those words. I HATE them. You use them against me in every fight, every day. All they do is make me clench my teeth and narrow my eyes. They don’t encourage, only hurt. I never see you try to fix anything. Instead you bring the people around you down. Why can’t you be happy? You can’t be happy, unless everyone around you is unhappy. Even when you have nothing to be upset about, you always find something wrong.
You try to buy peoples favor. Well, that won’t work on me. I am not shallow. People like you because, you’ll give them the shirt of your back. The truth is, you’ll give them the shirt off your back, only if you can buy a nicer one. You don’t do things out of the niceness of your heart, you always have an ulterior motive. You have my love, but my respect? Not until you earn it. You yell and tell me not to do things yet turn around and do them yourself. Be my role model. Prove to me it’s possible. Or are you afraid?
You just don’t see that I am more than an image to make you look good. My hair, my face, and my grades is all that matters to you. Things you can brag about it. You don’t even know me. When I was thirteen years old you kicked me out of your house for a month because I didn’t want to get my eyebrows waxed. If that’s not shallow, I don’t know what it.
But yet I know what’s going to happen tomorrow morning. I’m going to wake up and things are going to be normal again until tomorrow. It’s always the same. This vicious cycle. But I know when I wake up tomorrow, none of this ever happened.
You will probably never see this, and I’m okay with that. This helped, and I suppose that’s all that matters.