I feel that I’m just a bother to you all of the time. I also feel it’s part of the reason you say you are busy all the time when I ask if you want to do something or want to hang out. It’s part of the reason why you say you’re too tired to talk. Talking with me must be a chore. I feel that I should disappear— every part of my being has been screaming it, for a while now. I’ve kept it a secret as I didn’t want to trust my instincts nor the voices in my head. If you’d like for me to disappear, then… I’ll gladly go. I also know that I am the issue. I’ve been battling it in silence for months, but I never let it show as I didn’t want to worry you both. I don’t know whether you hate me or not at times. I’m almost certain that everything I do is bothersome for you. I feel that you think I’m only trouble—and I feel it very deeply. It hurts. But I’d rather suffer in silence than cause discord between us. Even if you hated me, or come to hate me, I’ll never blame you for it. I’ll never hate you. It just means that I wasn’t meant to be here, that I don’t belong here, and that I should leave before the pain is worse.
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