Hurt

I’m not sure if my eyes started to water before or after I felt lightheaded. Or did the nausea come first? I can’t remember. And then I asked you a question, and you brush it off. How do you do that? Minimize the things that you know I care about. That I hurt about.

To say you care and to care are in different solar systems. Not much in life is black and white, this is.

So I ask you about it, and the response is a white lie. A way to get me off your back. Shut it down before it starts, so to speak. I am certain that hurts more than what I am asking about. The shameless brushing off of the topic - the dismissal, apathy even. The worst part is I oblige, I go along. Because what’s worst than being disregarded once, is being disregarded twice.