You’re Worrying Me, My Friend

I’m worried about you, and I worry for you.

It isn’t because you’ve changed.

You have, and I do miss the old you, but that’s not it.

It’s because of who you’ve become and how far it’s gone.

Apathy, discouraging words, and lack of motivation?

Occasionally, fine.

All the time, not so fine.

You almost seem to embrace disappointment.

You’ve given up on things that always made you happy.

You’ve given up on people who only want to make you happy.

We want to help you.

I so desperately want to help you.

But you don’t want help.

Or maybe you do, but you don’t want to admit it.

All you say is that you’re fine.

You’re exhausted, bored, or just really busy, but you’re fine.

I wish I believed you.

But I sit around and wonder what happened.

I wonder what brought it on, as well as what may finally send it away.

Was it something you did or saw?

Something you felt, dreamed, or remembered?

Or was it someone?

I’m curious, but I don’t really need to know what or who it was.

All I need to know is that you’ll be okay, even if you’re not the you I remember.

Just as long as you’re a you who’s happy, that’ll be more than enough.

You deserve to be happy, and you should want to be happy.

Please remember that.

And remember I’m here for you.


You’re worrying me, my friend.


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