The two of you are always together.  I am the third wheel in this friendship. The extra person.  The second option.  No matter how much I do with both of you, with both of you, you would rather spend time with each other than with me.  ALWAYS. Even when you are upset with each other, I’m always there, I’ve never fought with either of you and I try so hard to comfort you.  But nothing comes of it.  I still feel like the second option, I am your second option. 

The worst part is, I can understand your reasoning.  I am generally lacking when it comes to being fun and interesting. But then again, this isn’t always true.  I can be a very outgoing person.  But being around people like you, weakens the outgoing side of me.  When in the presence of either of you, I can’t bring myself to be myself. Well my whole self anyway.  Which is hard on me.  I feel like maybe if you got to know me better, I would be able to be more accepted into this friendship.

But do you care to know me? Doubtful.  We talk about your problems, never mine.  And even when I try to talk about your problems, I feel pushed away, and not completely let in.  Neither of you trust me.  Which just upsets me more; you’d rather talk to each other. Fine.  I understand.  I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.

It’s just frustrating, because I feel unimportant, and unnoticed next to you.  But it’s not your fault.  I blame myself.

I worry about you. Every day actually. You’re so fragile, but yet you put up with so much. You stretch yourself way beyond capacity and it hurts you. I don’t want to see you get hurt, but if you are hurting (which I know you are) all I want to do is help; I want to make your pain go away. But you won’t let me.


Maybe there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better, but I’d like to feel like I am doing all that I can. Like the effort I put forth is appreciated. Maybe its not appreciated, maybe it actually makes it worse. I just need to know. And when you’re troubled, I’m here ready to talk. But you aren’t ready. Which I understand, when things happen sometimes we just want to be alone for a while to think it over; to calm down. But you are never ready to talk, no matter how long you’ve had. You keep to yourself and hold all of your pain as if you want to keep it all to yourself. I’m here, the pain will be less if you share it, and I’m willing to hurt with you.

For now, I just hope you’re okay…