Seen.

My mother always told me to keep myself first. To keep my head up high- no matter what makes me feel otherwise. To smile in the face of trouble, to cry when I feel like it, to demand when I needed to, to request when I wanted to, but never beg. Never lower who I was for someone who wouldn't care about me as I did about them.

In silence, I lose myself. In solitude, I forget everything, and I reach for someone. Someone to talk to. Perhaps, picking the phone up. Perhaps, dialing your number or dropping a text after you've left me on seen for eight hours. 

Keep my head up high.

You don't need me as I need you. You could care less while I give my whole world to you. My time, my space, my mind, my soul - while you couldn't spare a minute of your "forgiveness": forgiveness for something I did that was never wrong. Forgiveness for something that only gave you a chip more of who I am. Maybe you smile as I apologize. Maybe you laugh, pointing a metaphorical finger at me, shouting how my apologies are just a part of your game. A game of cat and mouse. 

Only if the cat was running after the mouse, begging for him to love her.

I love you if that isn't clear yet. I have sacrificed myself and my morals again, and again, and again—every single time you supposedly get hurt by me. There are worse times when you hurt me more, but I smile and wave the hurt away. I want this to work. I need you to work. And I can't do that if I'm hurt. There is only room for one person to be hurt in this relationship - and with how I am, that person could only ever be you.

I hurt you. I'm sorry. I message you too much. I'm sorry. I love you too much.

I'm sorry.

My hand shakes as tears well my eyes, guilt eating me up for something a rational mind would know is not wrong. A rational mind would pull me away from what we have because as you feign hurt over my words, my heart aches harder every passing moment. Can't you see it? You're hurting me. You're chipping pieces of me away, bit by bit, and you couldn't care less.

But I care. 

I reach for my phone, opening our chat window. 

I'm sorry that I hurt you. - I type and send.

I watch as you see the message, the three dots wobbling as you type. 

Then they stop.

You leave me on seen again.