empty

Imagine a friendship being like two water pitchers, both half-full. When the 1st water pitcher is feeling low, the 2nd pitcher pours them self into the 1st to fill them up, giving of their own good to benefit the other, and vice versa. When pitcher 2 is starting to feel low, pitcher 1 pours into them. That’s what a friendship should look like. Give & take.

But often, that’s not what it looks like…

What happens when pitcher 1 continually pours into pitcher 2? It gives every last drop, hoping and deeply wishing that pitcher 2 will reciprocate and pour back into them. But pitcher 2 never pours back. And after everything pitcher 1 has given, all it has to show for is complete emptiness.

Dear Pitcher 2,
You may never fully realize the kind of vacancy you create in the pit of someone’s stomach, or the kind of disappointment that you pulse through their hearts. You’ve always been like this. You take for granted the kind of love and care that others have poured into you, because after all, your number one priority has always been yourself.
I truly hope that your vision is clouded. That you’re oblivious to how your selfishness affects the people that surround you, that you don’t truly notice you’re pushing them away. However, some twinge of regret, some ache of confusion makes me believe otherwise. It makes me believe that you knew all along. You knew how you were treating your “friends.” They were just means to an end. The end being your happiness. I hope you’ve reached your end.

Dear Pitcher 1,
You may never fully realize the kind of fullness you create in someone’s life, or the kind of joy you drive through people’s hearts. You’ve always been like this. You pour your love and care into others, because after all, your number one priority has always been putting others before yourself.
I truly hope that your vision is clear. That you recognize how your compassion affects the people that surround you, that you clearly notice you’re changing their lives. However, some twinge of regret, some ache of confusion makes me believe otherwise. It makes me believe you have no idea. You are left in the dark wondering why you even cared, because the people you’re pouring into don’t reciprocate. You were just a means to an end. The end being other’s happiness.

I wish I had more to give, but you’ve taken my last drop.
My heart is sick and misses you, and I can’t make it stop.
I hate myself for missing you, and don’t know what to do.
I’ve told myself you’re dead to me, after what you put me through.
I don’t regret knowing you, and deep down I still care.
Now I know what they mean, when they say life’s not fair.
A part of me wants to think, that our story is not done.
But you’ll always be pitcher two, and I’ll be pitcher one.