Ungrateful

Ungrateful

A Poem by Tiffany S
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A summary of how I've been treated by past friends and others in my life, as well as a heartfelt thank you to a true friend of mine.

"
"You understand, don't you." What should have been a question to anyone else is pronounced as a declaration to me. They know I understand, or force myself to. Why wouldn't I? I'm the nice girl. I wouldn't dream for a second of rebuking them or denying any of their requests.
I wish I could at the very least say that they've been kind requests, but I'd be a white liar. Whenever they need me, I'm at their beck and call, yet I seldom get recognition for it, let alone gratitude. I dream of the day where I could have the faith to stand up. To stand alone and proclaim that I've had enough, that I'm tired of listening to their trite drama and that I'm through with the seemingly endless compliance.
But the nice girl wouldn't do something like that. And so the torturous belittlement continues, getting more and more intense as it begins to sink in. No matter what they say, no matter what they do, I'd never have it in me to stand up to them. To have any dignity. To have any real respect for myself. I've spent far too much time wondering and waiting when I'll finally get the praise I deserve.
Though I'd never admit that to a soul other than myself. My mind is filled with them, these hush utterances of confusion and exasperation.  Why can't she just do it herself? Why doesn't she understand or seem to notice how much I actually care about her? What would it take for her to get it? To finally grow up? To stop listening to those excuses for men instead of me?
I long to get those inner cries of mine out into the open. It would be for their own good, but they just wouldn't get it, that much I know. I'm the "innocent" one. I haven't been where they've been. I haven't done what they've done, nor have I seen what they've seen. They wouldn't know it, but I'm glad I've been spared of the gluttony, lust, and hurt. They're too immature to understand that one doesn't need to make a particular mistake to understand its implications. 
I spent years wondering, waiting, praying that someone who cared about me as much as I cared about them would come along. And then she did.
She was, and still is, too good to be true. She's there for me, at MY beck and call, whenever I'm feeling alone or depressed or so stressed out that all I can do is sob uncontrollably and toss any objects in sight. She's there for me whenever I'm feeling powerless against my inhibitions. Against my self doubt, self pity and my many insecurities gnawing at my raw flesh. She's there for me when I'm ungrateful, and when I'm the one acting pretentious and immature. She's the one offering endless apologies, when surely it is I who should be on my knees pleading for mercy. For once, I've known what it's like to be on the other side. 
I try my best to be there for her, too. To be her shoulder to cry on, because I understand; REALLY understand. Because I know exactly what it's like to be the comforter, the perpetual mother while they come to me with their worries, questions, and doubts. No one should have to endure such a one sided friendship.
I know that I don't deserve her. She's been a better friend to me than I have to anyone else, and truthfully, that's saying a lot. She tells me that I can trust her with anything, that she'll never judge me, even as I continue to question her unjustly. She still sticks by my side, tolerating my emotional baggage with immaculate grace. I know that I'll never be able to give her what she deserves, and I'm honestly shocked that her bloated heart for another hasn't burst.  I pray every night that she'll find the right guy, find the right friends, find the right life. Never have I come across a soul so prudent and deserving of all the love in the world.  
I want to thank her over and over, but that wouldn't be enough. If it weren't for her, my wayward tendencies surely would have gotten the better of me. 
The best I can do, I've come to realize,  is continue to walk with her. To love her more than she even knows. 

© 2013 Tiffany S


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I know the feeling of this poem all to well. Being "the nice girl" and all. First they want to hangout with you and it is all fine and good then the next second you are basically the last resort so if all the other friends have something to do or cant help you are the logical next step. Sometimes I want to stand up and say hey did you forget about me or something or am I not worth your time anymore? But I do love my friends though sometimes I wish I could get as much attention as she pays to the others. I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything. Anyway I have rambled on to much lol Great write and Just know you aren't alone in this feeling!

Posted 6 Years Ago



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Added on June 7, 2013
Last Updated on July 1, 2013
Tags: friendship, drama, personal, journal

Author

Tiffany S
Tiffany S

Chicago , IL



About
Hi there stranger! The name's Tiffany, and I'm an eighteen year old ESFJ born and raised in Chicago. I wrote my first short story at eight years old, and have fallen in love with writing ever since. I.. more..

Writing



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