It’s frustrating how we never learn from the same mistakes. Even though on nights like this, it is perfectly clear that I am walking alone, it seems impossible to remove myself from denial and believe that people will be there caring along the way. Tears ran as I glued myself to the backseat of the car, not wanting to move again. I watched their faces in the reverse mirror, listened to their laughter, and wondered if my existence made a difference in their life. Time and time again, I thought they had come around hearing my desperate pleas. One would think that I would be done hoping after all those letdowns. One would think that I would know nobody would ever budge, nothing would ever change.

Did I really think they would take a second to think of the ‘girl back home’? Did I really believe that I could trust them with outpours of my soul? Did I really hope that they would be the ones not to judge?

The remaining traces of optimism left in my thoughts are getting slowly shot down one by one, after each fight, each realization, each let down. Perhaps I should speak up instead of expecting to be treated reciprocally, but what difference would that make? Those that ultimately put themselves before others would not understand. I knew that the truth was always cold, but I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

The more we love, the more we hurt. It is said that love is worth it but I’m starting to doubt that. Love does not conquer all. Families break, friendships tear; relationships, shall i even start?