You Carved the Kindness Out of Me

i just want to be someone’s first choice.
 but i never am.
 i’m the second thought.
 the backup plan.
 the friend you drop when someone better walks in.

why?

is it my body?
 my hair?
 my laugh?
 my kindness?
 or is it just… me?

you say, “it’s not your fault.”
 but if it’s not mine,
 whose is it?
 i’m the one left behind.
 i’m the one erased.
 so why do i feel like i’m the one who broke something?

you carved me.
 not with blades—
 but with whispers,
 inside jokes without me,
 the hallway that fell silent when i walked in.

 you hurt me slowly.
 in pieces.
 you didn’t have to say it—
 your faces did.

you said “you wouldn’t get it”
 when i asked why i wasn’t invited.
 you said “we already have enough people”
 like i was an extra chair
 no one wanted to pull out.

you said “ugh, she’s always trying too hard,”
 and it echoed inside me
 for weeks.

i used to laugh with my whole chest—
 that weird, snorty, full-of-life laugh.
 you rolled your eyes.
 you imitated it once when you thought i wasn’t listening.
 i laughed quieter after that.
 until i stopped.

i used to bring extra snacks.
 i used to carry extra pens.
 i used to wait after class to walk with you.

and still—
 i was “too much.”
 too eager.
 too soft.
 too me.

so i changed.

i stopped talking in group chats.
 i stopped reaching out first.
 i started waiting, just to see
 if anyone would notice if i didn’t show up.

you didn’t.

i sat alone at lunch once
 and you passed by like i was furniture.
 i heard you laugh with someone else,
 louder than you ever laughed with me.

i wiped my tears in the bathroom that day
 and told myself,
 “you’re fine. they’ll come around.”
 but you didn’t.
 you never did.

and now—
 i don’t recognize myself.
 my smile feels fake.
 my eyes look like someone else’s.
 i miss the girl who used to believe
 that being kind would be enough.

you carved the kindness out of me.
 you took your time.
 you left behind someone who watches her words,
 hides her feelings,
 and doubts every friendship.

i wonder if you even remember what you did.
 i do.

every time i walk into a room
 and assume no one wants me there.
 every time someone laughs
 and i wonder if it’s about me.

i miss her.
 i miss me.
 i miss life
 before you turned love into something
 i was ashamed of.

maybe you forgot.
 but i never will.
 because the version of me you left behind
 is still trying to figure out
 how to feel real again.

and if you’re listening—
 if anyone is—
 please, help me find her.

help me find the girl
 who laughed too loud
 and loved too freely.
 the one who showed up
 before anyone asked.
 the one who believed
 she was worth staying for.

because i can’t do this pretending anymore.
 i can’t keep burying her
 just to make you comfortable.

so if you're out there—
 if someone out there sees me—
 don’t walk past me.
 don’t look through me.

i am still here.
 just softer.
 quieter.
 but still burning.

please… just choose me.
 for once.
 choose me.