It must have been no less than a week ago when you asked me why it was that I looked so very sad and why it was that I never said anything. You said that you understood, but I highly doubt it. This isn’t just something that is situational and can be pinpointed. If it could be, then I could figure it out. But it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple. I wish that I could explain it to you, but it’s much too complicated.

Do you want to know why….
I never tell anyone what is going on
The world seems like a dark, scary place to me
I still see the world as good, despite evidence to the contrary
Nothing that  you ever really need to be told is said
I will never try to tell you about anything
Please, don’t understand. Because,
I actually really do like you and care about you.

What you don’t know is that I have a really good friend who knows when I need to be left alone and when she can come talk to me. You don’t know that I actually have someone who is okay telling me all about herself and never asking me about my life or how I am. If I really wanted to talk to someone, I would talk to her, a longtime friend of mine, the girl whom I have somehow, and God knows how, made into this.

But it is not that easy, I hate to say, to….
See everyone laughing with friends
Realize that I have no one because of my own doing
Know that I caused all of this hurt
Believe that nothing I ever do is enough
Look around and realize just how little I’m worth to the world
Ponder about life and think how much is out there
Be certain that my dreams really could never come true.

Certainly you realize that I am not an easy person to understand. That girl, who is by best friend, time present, has told be that I am predictable and a surprise. I thought that was lovely. Little did I realize that it would not be so simple to continue being that way when others have found their place in the world and I am still wandering around, in search of mine. But I always was the odd one out. No use changing now.

You don’t believe that I understand.
You don’t believe that this is for my own reasons.
You think that it will stop with help.
You think that “I love you” is all I need to hear.
You thought that it would help out a lot.
You thought coming to talk would be good.
You knew that you were pushing a boundary.
You knew that I wouldn’t want to talk about it.

But you asked me anyway, And so, I haven’t told you a **** thing. I know that it is quite rude and mean and I understand if you want to run and tell the world. But I lost a friend because I wasn’t able to be there for her. I lost a friend because I wanted to be selfish and could not take the time to step back from my own issues to care about her. I lost that friend because I was the problem. So I took all the blame.

One day, I would love to explain to you
Why it is that I have a wall ten stories high,
Crafted out of mortar and brick,
With no room to add in any sort of window.
I’d love to tell you that it is because
Every time I have let it come down,
Even just a very little bit,
The person who knocked it down ran away.

Go ahead, I dare you, try to tear down my cemented wall. Try to change me. Have at it. If you can do it, you’ll have won the most coveted prize of all. But I really don’t know how you’ll be able to do that. Many have tried for so very long to accomplish such a feat. The only one who stands a chance is my best friend. One word, and I’d break it down for her. Yet, she is not daring or bold enough to even try to do something like that.

It would make me so happy if she would try to do that.
If she would even consider pushing the boundary,
Ask a question a second or third time in a row,
Push for an answer that I don’t want to give;
Oh, if she could be so bold as to even try that,
If she could do that, even just for a day,
Then I think that I would have to give in to what she wants
And then she would get every answer she’s ever wanted.

Issue being, you are not she. And she is not you. Were you both to be each other or somehow become the other, then I suppose you’ve found your loophole right there. You have found that which will somehow become my demise or pitfall or whatever the hell you want to call it. But I really just want you to understand that I am not ready or willing, quite frankly, to tell you something that no one else knows.

You are such a sweetheart,
I do want you to know that, okay?
But it is because you are a sweetheart with
So very many friends and such popularity
That I could never ever open up to you
And I really don’t know how else to explain it to you
Except that to say,
Darling dearest, the truth is going to hurt you.
But I know you and I know that you won’t accept that as an answer. I know you, I know that you just want me to tell you everything. But are you aware what the cost of being told all of that is? You will know a secret that I want to be taken with you to the grave, while you will feel obligated and obliged to tell other people because that is, in all honesty, probably the right and noble action to take

I’m very sorry to have to tell you,
But I’ll spare you the waterworks
By only giving you a brief overview.
You have so very many friends.
I have a few, at best, and
Am their last option, on a good day.
You are sought after by so very many
I would **** to have someone even glance my way.

See, I cannot tell you anything because I am all too good at hurting those that matter most to me. I really do believe that you care. But listen to me, hear me out. I have been down this road before, where people care and they really seem to want to know everything about me. But I really don’t want to drag you on the emotional roller coaster that I am. I know that’s not enough for you. But it’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.