As if I care.

Hmphhh. That was my attitude towards all of them.

They didn't care about me, so why should I care about them?

Most people see me as a happy go lucky kinda girl. Always the one planning the outings, the one who is the life of the party. If I had a dime for every time someone mentioned how strong I was, and how it seemed I just take everything in stride I might be able to afford the counselor I so desperately need.

But the truth is, I'm really screwed up. No one knows the depth of the darkness I hold inside. Because, let's face it, no one really cares anyway. I mean they all pretend like they do, just like I pretend I'm fine. But they don't really care, and I'm not really fine, and the vicious circle goes round and round.

But behind these walls, where no one sees the real me. I DON'T CARE!

I sit in the dark, staring at a space that is as empty as my soul and waste time, like I'm wasting life and wonder why the hell am I still doing this. Why am I still pretending? Why do I let on like everything is ok, instead of just letting the world know the truth?

Oh, I know. Because if people knew how bad I really was, they would not want anything to do with me. The invitations would be gone, the parties, a thing of the past. Dinner with friends, lets face it, no one wants dinner with Debbie downer.

So here I am, swimming in a fish bowl, surrounded by all the other messed up fish who are probably just as bad if not worse than I am, pretending that everything is just hunky-dory. Until one day one of us is found gill up, and then everyone comes around with all their pity and their statements of "I never even knew anything was wrong."

Well of course you never knew, because you never asked, because let's face it, you didn't want to know. I don't want to know either. My life is messed up enough as it is, the last thing I need is to get weighed down by all your problems.

And there you have it, ladies and Gents. The root of the problem. We are all so busy wallowing in our own misery while pretending we are perfectly fine, that we don't, or won't take the time to actually admit something is wrong, with me, with you, with the whole damn world!

Can we be fixed? Do we want to be fixed? Can we open up and allow someone to see the scars, or even worse the fresh blood? Or are we just going to keep bleeding, keep hiding and keep pretending, until the day someone is standing over a fresh dug whole in the ground, giving a speech about how much they will miss me? Even though they never bothered to really know me while they had the chance?

But who am I to judge? I ask my friend how she is doing and she say's fine. The same reply I always give. I know she's not fine, but I don't bother to nudge her for more information and she doesn't bother to give it. Can I see she is on the brink of tears? Yes, I can. But if she opens up her can of worms, I will open up my can of worms and then we will just have a big ole mess of slime, and tears, and snot all over the place. But will we be able to fix each others problems? Nah, we won't, so it's better to just ignore her feelings, ignore my feelings, ignore the bitterness that seeps into my soul because no one cares, or at least that's what I tell myself.

Isn't it easier to lie to myself as much as I lie to everyone else? My dogs know the truth. Now THEY care. The love I see in their eyes, is real. When I'm lying on the couch and they lie next to me, with their head in my lap. That's an emotion I can feel to my core. The way they look at me when I feed them or give them a treat. That's true appreciation.

Why can't we humans be more like dogs? Why can't we simply love for the sake of love. Not for anything in return. Not for attention, or pride or to be seen. But just for the sake of doing?

But yet again, I expect something from others that I'm not doing myself.

Have I always been this cynical?

I don't think so. I believe at one point in my life I actually cared. When I said I love you, I meant it. I still actually mean it when I say it, but I think there was a time when I meant it more, or deeper. Or maybe it just had a different meaning. I remember a time, when I truly cared about everyone's hopes and dreams. I wanted to hear them. I wanted to experience that excitement with them. I wanted to share my excitement too. But reality set in. People didn't care about what was happening in my world. And I began to notice, people didn't share their excitement to bring joy to others. They shared it to brag, to rub it in someone's face, to give glory to their own great lives, while showing how little of a great life someone else had.

That was the beginning.

That was how it all started.

That is when the excitement started to die, and the happiness started to unravel, and the pain started to penetrate, and the wall started to come up, and finally, the lies started becoming part of every day living.

So now here I am. Smiling, laughing even, as if I am living my best life. As if everything is rainbows and glitter. And I will continue to do this. I will continue to wear the mask as I am looking at the masks of all those around me.

I will give support, I will encourage, I will even love to the best of my ability. I will do it all, AS IF I CARE!