you know, something.

free write on the bus.

I used to listen to music, but I never understood what it meant. The lyrics made no sense to me, and then at one point I stopped listening to music. I stopped doing anything that I liked, and then I just had no motivation to do anything at all. I had dreams, I had dreams. At five years old I was already mature. Maybe, now that I look back, that is not something to be proud of. I already had a good understanding of how life worked. You go to school so you can get a job so you can become a work-a-holic and never come home and see your children. You go to work and sometimes you don't even come home, because you're too busy hanging out with your friends at three in the morning so you crash at their place when you know you have a family at home waiting for you and a daughter who looks up to you and is totally in love with you but you keep disappointing her and making her cry by not showing up home when you should be home because, well its a school night. Then you grow up thinking that everyone will leave and that nothing will ever stay the way that it is because happiness can always go away. Because people will always hurt you, and people will never really understand what you have gone through and why you are the way that you are. 

Then you end up overthinking everything. And you start thinking that maybe that guy who is treating you like you don't matter makes sense because from the beginning you understood that love is not real. That you need to suffer in order to get anywhere. And maybe sometimes you really do need to suffer. The pain makes sense. It is a feeling that you remember so well. 

But then you also grow up resentful, and when you try to talk about it when he's older and the white hairs are starting to come out, he thinks you're being ungrateful, because guess what? at least he didn't leave us right? At least he is still here even though he isn't. 

So where do I turn when I need advice, because your tone of voice hurts me in the heart. Even though, lately I haven't felt my heart strings working. Sometimes I think I don't have any feelings, and i'm empty. No one really understands. I am the only one who gets it, and i'm the only one that doesn't. 

Maybe that is why he looks at me like I am a nobody. Because I am not who he thought I was all these years. 

Sorry, but i'm paper thin. I can't always be the card stock you need me to be. Relate to me, please. 

But whatever.

We live together, but we don't know each other.

And it kills me inside, but somehow I am okay with it.