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Alive… But Unheard

 

I’m here.
Living. Standing. Giving.
Doing everything a person is supposed to do.

Yet sometimes, it feels like I don’t exist.

There are moments when I talk… and my words evaporate into thin air.
Moments when I sit among familiar faces, yet feel like a stranger in my own life.
Moments when I quietly wonder:

Am I invisible?
Or just not important enough?

Some people around me care deeply — I know that.
But there are others… who only notice me when they need something.
When there’s a problem to solve.
When money is required.
When responsibility needs to be carried.

Otherwise, silence.

Then the questions creep into my mind:

“Am I being punished for something?
Is this because I’m not good enough?
Or am I just a walking ATM?
A problem-solver, a duty machine… nothing more?”

I don’t want to feel like a “provider who doesn’t deserve emotions.”
I don’t want love only when I’m useful.
I’m human too.
I have a heart, not a built-in engine that endlessly runs without warmth.

There are days when I laugh on the outside,
but inside… there is a quiet ache.
Not anger.
Not hatred.
Just a tired sadness.

Because being physically present but emotionally ignored
is one of the loneliest forms of existence.

But here’s something I’ve realised — slowly, painfully, honestly:

My worth is not measured by how people treat me.
My value is not based on how much I give.
And I am not a sinner just because someone else doesn’t know how to love.

I may not always be celebrated.
I may not always be appreciated.
But I refuse to believe I exist only as a “money tree” or a “solution machine.”

No relationship, no one cares, and that penetrating pain, still didn't pour tears! 

I am a person.
With feelings. With depth. With a soul that deserves to be seen.

So I’m learning to protect my heart.
To stop begging for attention where there is none.
To give love without losing myself.
To stay kind… but not disappear.

One day, people may realise the value of what they had.
Maybe they’ll understand the presence they took for granted.
Maybe they’ll wish they had listened more, cared more, loved better.

Until then, I remind myself:

I am alive.
I matter.
And I deserve to be more than someone’s convenience.

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