Trying To Be Happy

My life consists of being ignored. I hate it when people ask, "What's wrong?" Then, when you're telling them what's wrong, they're looking past you, over your shoulder, trying to block out whatever you're telling them. Why did you ask if you aren't going to care? Me telling you what's wrong is me trusting you with the burden I'm carrying, trusting you to listen. Not listening is breaking that promise. I don't care if you're not going to care. Fine by me. But if you tell me you care, just so you can half halfheartedly hear what I'm saying, I'd rather you didn't.