Monologues of the mind

Because...

"Why do you hide away?"
"Why do you struggle to face the world now?"
"Why don't you tell people how you feel anymore?"

I don't tell people my feelings, my problems, my struggles because people stopped listening.
Because people stopped caring.
Because those I thought I could trust with the world, turned around and burnt it down.
Because those who promised to be there through thick and thin, through the good and the bad, left before I could even ask them for help. Because my suffering, to them, was nothing more than a sick-minded punchline to the joke that is...me.
Because when the 'going got tough', they got going, without even so much as a goodbye. 
Because I got tired of trying to pluck up enough courage to tell someone that "I'm not okay", to only have to stop mid-sentence because I was boring someone. Because my life story, to them, was just another tragic tale, just another statistic, just another random example used in a teacher's PowerPoint to tell us to be kinder.
To be nicer.
To be more understanding.
To be better individuals.

And I know some stuck around, even through the bitter seasons when my frozen heart struggled to thaw.
And through the seasons when my heart swelled with so many varying forms of emotions that all I could do to attempt to cope was cut everyone and everything out; for fear that if I spoke, all that would leave my mouth would be fire.
Fire that would burn down all the bridges that I had so tirelessly tried to maintain, to stabilise, to solidify. 

But, when I look back on my past, is it a trail that is blazed with victory, successes and happiness?
No...
It's a trail that has been laden with failures, betrayals, and lies. It's a trail only the unfortunate have to ever travel down.