Love, Heartbreaks and Tragedies

Question

"What am I to you?" I asked.

The question tasted so bitter in my mouth. It took me such courage and bravery to tell these words but you didn't hear it. You were out of your mind, probably thinking of something else, or someone else. Her.

"I'm here for you." I said for the nth time. I have lost count of how many times I have told you these words, hoping you'd appreciate my presence. Wishing you'd notice my feelings too.

"I love her." You said to me for the nth time. I wasn't shocked. I knew from the start you love her. The way you said those words was sweet and lovely. But how come I thought of it as a destructive tornado that was only meant to destroy my heart?

Me and you. Us. No, me and you.

How cruel of you to be here with me every time you needed to be healed? Like I was a pill or something, something you'd only take when you're broken and shattered inside, or empty and hollow and numb from all the heartaches she had caused you.

But I never said a thing — negative thing. Because I know if I said one thing, it would mean like caging you. Asking for your time and attention would be pathetic and degrading. Being here for you was fine.

It was until I woke up and realized that I needed to free myself from this locked up dungeon I put myself into, remembering the key was your answer.

"What am I to you?" I asked again. Deep thoughts sinking in my mind. Something was hurling in my stomach like a hurricane. My heart was beating so loud and fast.

I know I never asked for anything in return but I am tired now. Waiting in vain for you to come back and be with me again. Healing your wounds that even the one who caused those wouldn't even do. I am wounded. I was fired by thousands of bullets and I needed healing too. But what a dumb shit I was, I didn't notice you were the one who pulled the trigger.

Instead of answering, you held my hand, squeezed it like it would remove all the pain away. I didn't need that. I needed an answer. An answer you couldn't give me. How expensive was it that you couldn't even afford one and give it to me?

Am I not worthy of an answer? Am I nothing but your downside call?

I cried in front of you. You were holding my hand and acting like you wouldn't leave me for her again. I cried because that's the only thing I could do. Cry, cry, cry because I couldn't be angry at you.

What am I to you? Who am I to you? A friend? A best friend? Or someone you knew you could go up to when you needed a talk or a push. Someone you knew that would always have your back. Someone you knew that would never leave you.

I removed your grip from my hand.

You didn't even say a word. Am I not even worthy of a sorry?

Who am I to you? In your cold eyes I found the answer.

I am just that someone who never really mattered.