The Cloudy Head

I like to talk about my self. Yeah, you read that right. I feel like I have to explain my behavior or my point of view, well, all of my life. I want you to understand and say something if I do wrong so I can learn form that. But you say nothing. 

"What's wrong with you?"

You didn't say it out loud but  I always can hear it through your nodding head, your wandering  eyes that avoid my eye contact, and the 'hmm' sounds you make.

Then I answer it, though I know it was rhetorical.

Then again, you just nod.

Still, I can hear you say, "What's wrong with you..."

You just sit there, saying nothing and start forgetting.

Then I reach a point that I don't need you. I don't need any of this chit-chat. I don't need you to tell me.

Because you know what? I know that I should stop lying and do things that I said I will do. I know what part of me that need to be fixed. I know that I can't hold on to somebody else beside my self. I know that I fight on my own and I have to fight harder because no one will help me. I know that I should help my self. I know that I should keep my shit together.

I know that you don't care a bit.

Although I know that, I know that eventually I will come to you with a hope that you will understand this time and you will do or at least say something about it. That time, I hope you will tell me something that I don't know because I'm tired of figuring it out by my self.