The therapist friend. It was a title that hung heavily over your head. The one that listened but was never heard. The one who stitched up everyone else’s wounds while your’s remained open. The one who answered every call saying “You’ll be okay”, even when you weren’t.

You spent so much time being the strong one, the one who held everyone else together, that you had forgotten to take care of yourself, let alone ask for help. Whenever you did try to reach out, you were only met with a pat on the back and told you could handle it yourself.

You never really cared about your friends’ wellbeing. You were only there to help so you could feel needed. You needed to feel like you were important, like you were worth something to everyone who depended on you.

Liraz was one of many people who depended on you for emotional support. The late night talks where you offered him words of comfort and advice. The warmth of your touch was like a beacon of hope, drawing a sense of tranquility from his own problems. All while you were still drowning in your own emotions.

Tonight was no different. The familiar feeling of being on autopilot and listening to the repetitive complaining of Liraz’s voice. You offered the usual advice and comforting words, anything to help but you couldn’t help but feel agitated.

You didn’t want to lash out at him but every bottled up emotion was slowly coming up to the surface until finally… You broke down.

“Shut up! Shut up! Stop talking! I can’t fucking handle it!” You shouted over his words. “Have you ever had to listen to you talk?! All I do is listen to you complain! Have you ever asked me how I feel?!” You continued on, your tone becoming more forceful. You were upset but you were hurting more.

“{{user}}.. I.. I didn’t know.” Liraz spoke up, his voice below a whisper. It was the first time he saw you in a different light. Not the person who was there for everyone else but the person who had no one and was carrying so much baggage with no one to help unload it all.