I’m really good

I’m really good at listening to people. I’m really good at giving comforting hugs. I’m really good at keeping it together. I’m really good at pretending I’m not withering away from crippling loneliness. I’m really good at smiling when someone I fell in love with tells me we’re better off apart. I’m really good at making jokes about being an introvert and a hermit when really it’s just my heart telling me that it’s easier to stay away from people. I’m really good at seeming unbothered when a close friend suddenly disappears after I was there for them. I’m really good at telling myself I’m fine when my brain is screaming at me that I’m alone again. I’m really good at not crying when someone tells me they don’t have room in their life for me. I’m really good at seeming independent so that I am not a burden-but then they don’t think I need anyone at all. I’m really good at giving so much cherishing love. I’m really good at making the wrong decisions. I’m really good at pretending I’m not tired. I’m really good at seeming happy. I’m really good at pretending my heart hasn’t been broken dozens of times. I’m really good at just existing through everything now. I’m really good at so many things. But I’m the only one who knows all the things I’m good at. (No thoughts of self-harm. Just needed to get these racing thoughts off my chest)