Nobody Listens, I don’t matter. You can imagine these words being uttered from the mouth of a teenager locked away in a darkened room. But what if it’s from a thirtysomething who appears to have it all? An anonymous post sharing precisely that.You listen when it matters to you; you hear when you want something. For me, I talk. Nobody listens. I can be by myself; there’s no one to talk to, to forget what I’ve said. It matters because I matter, to me. Sometimes. I’m the butt of your jokes; I’m on the receiving end. Your anger, your miserableness, your lack of interest, your boredom; It’s not my fault. You’re not the star of your story, so it must be, my fault? I don’t matter. Countless apologies, empty meanings, empty promises; they don’t matter because you don’t mean it. You want promotions. You work for it. You put in the effort. You want a tv, a car, beautiful things; you get them because you want them. I get the empty apologies and sorrowful looks. I don’t matter.
You belittle me in front of people, your work associates, and my family. You get laughs; it makes you feel good; I don’t matter. You want me to be by your side, when you want me to, just to be there so that I can be seen. My conversations can be shared amongst your fans, but I don’t matter. When you want me, when you need me, and when you’re hurting inside? I matter. I’m your rock; your equal; I’m everything you want and more. I’m a goddess, a life saver, your fix. Only for that moment. You got what you wanted. You’re better; I’m worse, it hurts. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being enough.