Why?

Why is everything I do ridiculous? Why is it the things that hurt me are hysterically funny to you? Why is it you can share your pain and your hurt but I can't even get a word in edgewise when I want to talk about something that's hurting me? And when I do get to say something about what I'm going through, you laugh about it. You find it hysterically funny. You find something that causes me to stay up all night or cry myself to sleep something to laugh about. Why does it always have to be about you? Why is it when it's everyone else agree to something, except for you, we have to change it? Yet, when I don't agree, I have to keep quiet and go along so everyone else will be happy? Why is it the things I like and are interested in are stupid or not interesting? Yet, the things you like and find interesting HAVE to be liked and found interesting. Why does everything have to go your way? Why is it that I'm always left alone or forgotten or neglected or left out? But we can't do a thing without your opinion, your decision, or your presence. Why do you think I keep your at an arm's length? And when I say arm, I mean like an octopus' arm. Why do you think I've been pulling away?