Thirty-Four

“Now go. Leave us alone.”

I looked up at him with dull, dark eyes.

Then, I turned around and went to my room.

All I want is to be near them.
But he always tells me to leave them alone.

I don't understand.
Why don't they want me?
What did I do wrong?
Why can I never stay?

He doesn't know it, but...
 Sometimes I pretend to go to my room.
When I'm actually crouching in the shadows,
peering into the lives they keep so separate from mine.

It's like as soon as I'm gone, as soon as they no longer see me, they don't care.

That must be how everyone feels about me.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Maybe they're sad I'm alive.

I wonder if everyone feels this way about me.

So many nights, I lie in bed, unable to move because the loneliness I feel is so heavy, as if my bones are splintering under the weight of each passing moment.
But they don't care.

Eventually, my silent tears lull me to sleep.
Tears pleading fervently to be heard, yet misplaced in the subtle dimness blanketing the world.
I always wake up.
But sometimes, I wish I wouldn't.