People do not care.

People don’t care.
They might be your friends, sure, but do they message you every now and then to ask how you’re doing?
No. They don’t.
No matter how hard you try to reach out, they just don’t.
So you isolate yourself.
And you keep doing it, even when you know nothing will change.
You know no one will check in, no one will ask if you're okay.
You're just there. Stuck.
Drowning.
You scream, but no one hears.
You try to get back up, but you keep sinking.
So what do you do?
Nothing.
You suck it up and try to forget that horrible, heavy feeling.
The loneliness. The silence.
You start to imagine a future.
One where you have everything you ever wanted.
Where you're happy.
But that future feels far away.
Then one day, you get desperate.
You post a note on Discord.
It says:
"You make me sick."
You wait.
Silence.
Nothing.
And that’s when it hits you again.
People don’t care. Not really. Not about you.
So you keep posting notes.
Then one day, you post something darker.
"You make me want to slit my throat."
Ding.
"___ messaged you."
You open it.
Someone actually messaged you.
But it’s not who you expected.
It’s someone you barely talk to.
Someone you don’t really know.
And yet, they cared.
They asked if you were okay.
You start talking.
You relate.
And for some reason, you feel comfort.
You open up, something you never do.
You share your feelings.
And she says,
"You need to tell them how they’re making you feel. It’ll eat you up inside."
She was right.
It is eating me up.
I feel like I’m drowning.
But I still don’t say anything.
"Not now."
"I’m not ready."
That’s what I tell myself.
But deep down, I know.
Someday, I’ll break.
Someday, I’ll tell them how lonely I’ve been.
How badly I’ve been hurting.
Until then, I sit here.
Waiting.
Hoping I won’t be the one to reach out first.
So I type.
A story.
Or maybe just a stupid rant.
I post it.
And I hope.
That someone out there reads it.
And maybe, just maybe...
They realize they’re not alone either.

Love,
xoxo spy!