Speak to me/What’s wrong?
Did I do something? Because when I said Hi coming through the door, you ignored me. I understand if you were focusing on the TV, but, really, did I do something to upset you? I can take your honesty, believe me. I prefer it, actually.
You’re slamming cabinets again. I flinch each time. Easy indicator. Something is definitely wrong, you’d think. I try again. You double down, No, I’m not mad at you, so, clearly, I’ve done nothing to unnerve you, right? I take your word for what it is because I believe you are telling the truth. We go about our days, business as usual.
Oh, so you’re giving me the silent treatment now. How fun. I know neither of us is enjoying this. We used to enjoy a lot of things together: Late-night tv, meadow reports, going out. Now, it’s just awkward. I’m scared to speak. I feel like I burden you with my presence. Instead of your eyes, it’s your general direction I look to. I feel weak when our pupils connect. Frozen, stuck.
Maybe you’re just having one of those days. Nothing is going your way. But these days have turned into weeks, and still, there’s no change. I continue with kindness because my mother raised me right. But, you, on the other hand, continue your hostile plight. How was your day? Fine. Lots of work? Yes.
I’m so frustrated. A hermit, I’ve become. I’ve locked myself in my room, distancing myself away from you. Are you doing this on purpose? To make me angry? It’s working. I could throw a brick through glass and leave the shards for you to step on.
Everybody hates me, you complain. I wonder why… The irony defeats me. I roll my eyes after every other word. What makes you think I want to listen to your problems when you’ve created so many of mine? When you find yourself in the middle of complaining about others, at one point you should ask yourself, “Am I the problem?” Because most of the time, you are. Check yourself before you wreck yourself, they say. When you blame everyone else for your own issues, you’ll run out of people to blame. Woe is you.
I don’t have patience for your passive aggression anymore. Either I did something or I didn’t. Tell me straight up if I have, and I will place my apologies where they’re due. I can’t read your mind, and frankly, I don’t want to. I’d rather stab myself in the eye than immerse myself into your narcissistic neuroses. Consoling you is not on my agenda today. Maybe it was a month ago, but I won’t put myself into that position again.
So, say something. Tell me what’s wrong. Free me from these silent chains. The first step is to say, I’m upset. I’m your friend. I want to help. Don’t avoid me. Face your problems. Or, at the very least, don’t make them mine. I won’t know unless you say something.
Speak to me.
Art by Ashley Yu