There’s no fighting the constant emptiness in my heart. It’s as if I gave too much of myself away and now, I’m wasting away to nothing.
It’s about time to come to terms with the fact that no one fights for me. I’m easily the outcast. The one who’s constantly rejected. The one who’s always forgotten.
I’m not important. Never have been and never will be. How I wish that it would all stop. That I would close my eyes and darkness would embrace me. I ask that because it’s so hard to let go of the consistent disappointments from people I thought were better than they are.
Maybe they are, everything I expect of them. Just not to me.
I don’t want to try anymore. Even if I wasn’t there, no one would notice.
Yesterday was the annual meal that my family had to celebrate the birthdays in March. For the first time, maybe ever, I didn’t go. I didn’t and don’t want to see my sister. However, my sister apparently included myself and my spouse into the reservation. I’m puzzled.
She barely notices when I’m around, or if I even say something. Why does she keep in this hope that I will randomly show up just because? They’re not my family. I have no family. Not a family that matters in that way. I’ve never had one of those families that encourage you, that lift you up, that respect you. My family couldn’t care less about me. She probably included me in the hopes that I would show up and pay for the meal.
My absence doesn’t affect her life in any way.
I have to accept that people are happy without me.