Regret

You always asked me how I was;
always made sure to check up on me.
Until one day, you didn’t.
I got nothing.
A week later, there was no sign of you.
I felt so neglected and hurt;
so forgotten and alone.
Didn’t you care enough about me?
Didn’t I matter to you anymore?
Towards the end of the second week,
I heard the news.
You had died and it had been suicide.
I felt disgusted,
I hated myself,
because even though you had thought of me
and cared about my own wellbeing,
I never once thought to ask if you were alright,
or how you were coping.
You had been there for me when I’d needed you,
whilst I had never done the same for you.

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