Always Alone

I don’t even know how to begin to explain how I am feeling. 

I don’t cry, except at sappy songs and sappy movies, and when someone dies. 

But the tears are threatening, and I’m only going to stave them off by going to bed. 

I don’t know how people do it. How they have these happy, fulfilling, love filled lives. 

I can only be your friend for so long before I just can’t take it anymore. I know it didn’t work out, and that it wouldn’t even now; that there are just too many things that would make it wrong. 

I understand why no one else loves me, but I don’t understand why you don’t. We know each other so well, and maybe that is the problem. I tried so long to believe that it’s okay that I am not pretty and thin and all made up. 

But that is a foolish belief. Just as foolish as thinking that smart and caring meant anything. It doesn’t mean anything that I am always there whenever you need me, that I will go out of my way to make you happy. It just means that I am stupid. 

And incredibly sad.

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