Long Way Home

Rant

This is what I want to say to you but can bring myself to say:

You don't know me at all.

You think you do.

But you're only lying to yourself.

Telling yourself that we're best friends.

Telling yourself that you still care about me.

But you don't care about me.

Because if you did, you wouldn't be treating me the way you do.

You would want to sit with me at lunch.

You wouldn't try to publicly humiliate me.

You would ask me what's going on in my life and not just always talk about what's going on in yours.

You don't respect me.

You don't support what I love to do.

You don't like the parts of me that I cherish most.

You aren't grateful for all I've done for you.

And I'm not one to boast or force an apology or a thank you.

That's mostly what's keeping me from saying this all to you

right now.

I want your thanks to be genuine.

But all the thanks I've gotten so far is a cold shoulder.

So many sleepless nights were because of you.

Yet I had to practically glue you to your seat to get you to listen to me.

I had to beg you to visit me when I was sick.

And now I get to listen to your complaints and your problems.

"Oh, she did this again; they are bothering me about this...."

You seem to have forgotten about the MOST TRAGIC PART OF MY LIFE.

When SHE left I wanted to turn to YOU.

But you weren't there.

You were off crying about the same things you had been for months.

All of that year you stressed me out to no end.

And the next you left me for no reason other than you'd found better people to hang out with.

I had every reason to leave you.

To throw away the towel and quit on our already strained relationship.

It was strained either because you expected too much from me, or I was trying to hold it together all by myself.

Maybe both.

I don't know.

I probably never will know, because I won't unless we have this conversation.

And I'm too much of a chicken to instigate it myself.

I think I'm just hoping, that if we just keep on acting like nothing's wrong

nothing will be.