I cry.

You say, “Be strong”.

I cry some more because you don’t seem to understand.

You say, “Be strong for him”.

I cry even more because you really don’t get it.

I cry because I’m lonely, not because I’m weak.

I cry because I’ve been trying to be strong. Not for anyone, not for him, but for me. Because first and foremost, I need me to survive — every day, every hour, every minute.

I cry because sometimes the loneliness just creeps in and some days, you really don’t have full control over it.

I cry because I will never get over it.

I cry not because I’m weak, but because I’m lonely.

And it’s sad that you can’t seem to understand.

It’s sad that you might never get it.