I used to care about everything. Literally everything. And that’s why people love me so much – because I care. I ask a lot , and often, about other people. ‘How’s work?’ ‘Oh that’s terrible, how it happened?’ ‘What do you think about it?’
I grew up in everyone’s problem. I became somewhat a solution maker, an answer bearer. Pouring every pain and problems they had into my ears, drowning every bit of me into their eyes and mind.
It was divine feeling. At first. Everybody needs me. Everybody comes to me. Everybody compliments me of how good listener/solution maker. Seems like the world cared about me. Or at least at school.
In my barely furnished single room, I tucked myself in tears and heaviness from outside. In the middle of the night. I stared the ghostly shadow that shaped like my soul. The night, however gloomy and scary some might’ve thought; it seemed to be sincere in watching my silenced heart.
In the morning, everybody again surrounded me with their own problems. I again, be the center of their attention. A kind of heart expert, relationship doctor or love repairer; if only I could put that into my resume.
The dark came, and so was the shadow of my soul again. Text messages, missed calls of their problems still bumping into my inbox. Only this time, I turned my back and pretended to sleep.
The moment I stepped into class; as if I’m their sun that shine intensely to their crop of infertile brown-soiled problems. Again, and again, and again. ‘Why won’t you take him somewhere else?’ ‘I think he loves you’ ‘yeah, definitely do it. Text him.’
I kept waiting for other people to ask me about my day. I kept waiting for another person, who cared the world, like me to ask, about me. It was harmless; waiting. It was harmless, in a glance. It was harmful, in the long run.
It was harmful, because I felt nobody cared about me. It was harmful, because I can’t feel me and my life. It was harmful, because my personal time was indirectly taken away from me for others. It was harmful, because it made me sick of the world. It was harmful, because knowing too much numbs you from being suprised at anything.
So I decided to walk away. I walked away each time I moved schools. I deleted my former schoolmates. I deleted my account associated with any of the schoolmates. I changed my number. I just learnt to live by my own quote; nobody gives a damn about you.
I was right. None of my previous schoolmates came looking for me. I left, for my own peace of mind. I mind my own personal life, aiming for educating my soul, replenishing my spirit and enlighten my mind.
So how to not care? Don’t ask question more than what you needed to know. How to not being obligated to care? Don’t tell about yourselves more than what they needed to know.