I’d like to sit down and take a break, talk to someone who cares, wherever they are, online, in “real life,” a therapist, a friend, a stranger, a gorilla even. I want someone to “get it.” I need to be held tightly. I want to be covered in a blanket. I want someone to make me soup, take the bowl away, let me rest and then wake me up for dessert. I don’t have a chance to take a break. I just sit down and pray that the noise stops. Everything is so loud and terrible. I’ve told you to stop banging the drum so loudly in my ear. It’s like you’re not listening to me. You probably can’t hear me over all the noise. It’s not your fault, except that it is your fault. You can turn the volume down, you just choose not to. Why? I told you that I need to say something and you refuse to hear me. I can’t scream any louder. The least you can do is to turn the knob down. You won’t meet me halfway, talk to me like I matter, eat a sandwich with me. It’s not fair, and you know it, yet you still keep ordering without me. I told you to let the waiter know I was hungry, but you didn’t. You went ahead and asked for spaghetti and sauce and now I’m starving and you’ve eaten everything on your plate.
I never get a break and you take up all of my mental energy. I’m always lending you my emotional support like it’s a pillow. It’s so comfortable, you feel at home and you never say thank you. Why? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. You pretended to be my friend, make jokes with me, and then when I asked you to sit with me, you told me you couldn’t. You said that you were extremely busy. Busy is code for “I stopped caring about you but I can’t say it.’
I can say it for you. It hurts, but I’ll say it.
It’s okay if you don’t want to take a break with me. I’m okay. I don’t blame it on you. It’s my fault for trying too hard for too long. I don’t expect things to be different. You made it clear who I am to you. You completely shattered what I thought was real in favor of a pretend land, an imaginary scenario, an emotional candy land. I’m tired to catering to your ego that you’ve been flaunting. I’m sick of sitting on this rock, waiting for you to stop dancing. I told you I was tired. Why can’t you listen? It’s okay. I will be fine. Just please don’t tell anyone we had this conversation.
I’m tired of explaining myself to people who don’t get me. I’ll take a break by myself. I’ll breathe in the air that I’ve been stifling, choking on. You don’t have to do anything anymore. I’ve got this.
