All we want is to be heard. But it's a tricky matter. Sometimes, people don't give us the chance to be heard. Sometimes, it's us who don't give them the chance to hear us. Sometimes, they interpret our silence as wanting to be alone. So they give us the space they think we need. Sometimes, we really do need that space; other times we just want them to be closer and hold our hands. Sometimes, they sense that our quiet means we're not okay. And sometimes, they do ask if we're okay because they're worried too. They love us and they're worried. But most of the time we tell them that we are, through gritted teeths and forced smiles. Because we're ashamed and insecure and uncertain. Because how do we tell the people we love that we're hurting and that sometimes it's because of them? That there exists irrational thoughts in our minds that spiral out of control and make us feel all the sadness, confusion, tiredness, resentment, anxiety, anger, and hate towards everyone and ourselves. That these irrational thoughts make us question their love, sincerity, and concern for us. That sometimes, we get this inexplicable and constant need for assurance and affection. That sometimes, no matter how much they show us their love and care, our minds refuse to believe, as if engulfed in a large blob of distrust. So we beat ourselves up and feel small, convinced that it's all our fault for thinking that way and that we don't deserve their love. And sometimes, it's us who push them away because we're afraid that our hurt that radiate like needles from our skins will hurt them too.

They say communication is key, and we know that. We know that the more we keep it, the more it'll hurt. But whenever our mouths open to speak, our hearts clam up and our minds unhinge. What comes out is a barrage of 'I'm okay', 'It's nothing', 'I'm just tired', 'Don't worry', when in fact we're all screaming inside, clawing out against the darkness, searching for light. Whereas, the people we love are also looking into our own vast and endless pool of darkness, wanting to reach out but not knowing where to their hands. We feel helpless and the people we love feel helpless. We just want to be heard but why is it so hard? Instead, all we hear is the deafening sound of people bursting to pieces upon reaching their own threshold of pain, followed by the piercing wails of 'I'm sorry'. Everyone says sorry because in the end, it's all there is ever left to say.