I spend much of my time awake in bed crying.
I spend much of my time in the shower crying, or letting the water get too hot so it burns my skin.
Even though crying is normal for me, that doesn't mean the pain is any less.
You recently found out I cry before I go to sleep.
I've told you twice when I cry.
The first time you were concerned.
The second time, you were too busy to ask me why I cried.
"I don't wanna be too busy more than I already am"
That's what you said to me.
You couldn't spare thirty seconds simply texting me a question.
Yet then you could talk to me about what I was doing and how you love that tv show.
I've been there for you.
Encouraged you.
Comforted you.
Told you to stop blaming yourself.
I've let myself drown more to help you.
You've been there for me.
More times than I can count.
Now you've left me stranded.
It hurts like hell.
I know you've got your shit.
But so did I.
So do I.
