I think what sucks the most, is finding out that you have worked, this hard. All this time, for nothing. That the people you thought were supporting your decisions, are actually the first in line to tell you “Well done” when you turn the other way. What sucks is knowing that these past few years, of hard work and effort to do what you thought is the best, pushing through whatever you had to – because you thought it was the best – wasn’t.
What sucks is when you find out the people you call friends, and thought had your back, are the first to leave when things get tough. To play your pain off as a joke, but expect you to be there when times get rough for them.
I don’t want to be mean, I want to help, but sometimes it seems like all I am doing is giving. Giving. Giving. And sometimes, I just cant give anymore. Sometimes I just want to give up, and go away, and while I know it all sounds so damn cliché, I want to know if there is anything left worth fighting for, because really? It doesn’t look that promising.
They expect it. They expect me to be there, to say something, to fix it. And most times, I can. But sometimes, the pain they have caused me, wants to come back out and slap them in the face. I want to dig their wounds deeper and hurt them like they have hurt me. I want to take their pain and shove it in their face and watch them squirm.
I hate the double standards, two faced people who think one thing is ok for me, but not ok for them. I hate that I want to hurt someone I care about, but hate that I care about them, when really, I shouldn’t. I hate that when they have something happen to them, its ok for them to be upset, that their life and family are more important than anyone elses. I hate that I based my decisions on their opinions, when apparently, they never thought I was doing the right thing anyways.
Really I just hate that I am thinking these things. Knowing these things. Realizing these things. All too late.
People who told me, time and time again that they would be there. Are the first to leave. To turn the other way, and forget their half true promises that never come true. Yet expect support when the same happens to them. I, am expected to move on. To be ok. To get over it. To laugh it off and move on. Yet at the same time, I am suppose to be understanding of their own pain, when the same things happens to them.
Laugh it off. Brush it off. It doesn’t matter. Why arent you laughing. Why does it matter. All these thoughts, these questions. They make me mad. Mad. That I am even thinking these things, because I know they are hurting. Because I have been there. But something inside of me wants me to show them, first hand, the pain they themselves have caused me.
But I wont. Because I know. How much it hurts.
And I don’t want that, even for someone who has hurt me. Instead I will just shake with anger, and sit silently while listening. And scream it out. Just so I can support someone who has hurt me more than words could ever say.
Sometimes, friends…just suck. Sometimes, its true, I want to shove them out as fast as they came in, I want to slap both sides of their faces and ask them what I have ever done to betray them. But I wont, because I know it wont do any good. They wont know. Wont care. Wouldn’t know it if it slapped them in the face. Its just life. Its just how it goes. Pick myself up. Brush it off. Be there for others.
And when I collapse? Who cares, right?