You Lose

You stab me with the knife of indifference
right before you plunge me into the icy cold depths of apathy.
All this as you smirk, and nudge and whisper.
But as I get close the talking stops and silence reigns.
And it is clear that you... think... you're... better... than... me.
Better because:
your clothes are neatly pressed...
Your children are more well-behaved...
you chose not to have children...
You don't make as many mistakes...
you don't forget things...
You make friends easily...
You're still married...
You chose not to marry...
And you smirk and laugh and judge so easily.
You think you know me at a glance.
You see:
The way I dress.
My shy manner.
My rowdy children.
My forgetfulness.
You see my mistakes.
But you don't see me.
You never see me.
You never know me.
And you lose:
 the comfort I give when my friends are in need.
 a sympathetic ear.
The thought I put into my gifts.
My silliness and my humor.
my empathy.
The fun we could have had together,
if you'd gotten to know... the... real... me.

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