Fallacy

Photo by Luis Villasmil on Unsplash

I hate it when they do not help. Well, they do not care. But, they also assume that I am better, saying I am better than them. If only they knew the battle, how much I struggle, the pain inside! If they knew, they would not dare envy me, They would not dare say such things. Then, they maybe would not help still. They would probably ignore my existence, disregard my presence anyway. I would be uninteresting, but that would not bother me at all. I just want to be left alone. Don't you assume I hate them? They look at the smile I put each day and envy its presence. Little do they know it is only painted. At the end of each day, I return to the pain, to the struggle, to the battle of which nobody knows, one that I started and can not end. I am stuck in between. I don't know how to be anymore. I am no longer that bubbly, happy, strong person. I can not regain that person now, regardless of how much I try. I guess for them to know is useless. People do not care that much after all. Yet, they will always care to envy. I find it unfathomable each time I see it. They do not stop for a second to consider the possibility that behind that happy face, there is a tremendous amount of distress. I come back to myself at night feeling not only daunted but gutted every 24 hours. I would've expected those around me to know this. I would've expected that they'd be aware because the contrast was ever so noticeable. Alas! Years ago, I could not force myself to cry. Now, I can cry whenever I want if I retreat myself enough to face the reality of what's happening to me, how I've become, what I have done, what had happened, how it all ended up! If I silenced the hope that's nearly dead again, If I forgot to remind myself that I have to have faith, I would cry in a blink of an eye. They used to tell me that I look beautiful when I am sad. What would they say now that I am sad all the time? Does that make me a beauty queen? They used to say that I had a halo of mystery. Did it stay now that I have to fake it all? I flee moments of solitude since they hold nothing but darkness. Tell me. Won't they stop for a moment to consider that there is so much more than what it seems? I always do because people always carry more than what they usually show.