Want

I wonder at times
what life might be like
if somebody cared about me

if there were someone I could call
whenever I’m crying
without being a burden

if there were someone I could invite
to a birthday
and expect them to show

I have been made
to feel I must beg
for companionship

I wonder at times
what life might be like
if I believed somebody cared about me

Button

I haven’t wanted to ask this. 
I’ve been afraid asking would be the end of our relationship.

But I’ve already wasted so much time and energy trying to figure out if
I imagined our connection—if
I’m imagining the disconnection.
Reality is hard to grasp through mania and depression,
Every crumb of attention starts the cycle over.

The truth is, our relationship ended a long time ago.
I just hadn’t figured it out until recently.
What exists now is two people who used to know each other,
Being friendly from time to time.
So what is there to be afraid of?

I’ve spent a lot of time replaying our conversations,
Trying to understand when things changed.
I am profoundly wounded that you couldn’t say, “Something’s happened. I need space.”
A friend would have said, “This isn’t working.
You need to work on this.”

So I need to know if we're friends.

What happened?
Why did things change?