Because I Know How It Feels

Because I Know How It Feels

Someone once asked me, softly,

“Why are you always there for others?

Why do you give your time,

your care,

your heart,

to people who sometimes

may not even notice?”

I paused, smiled, and whispered,

“Because I know how it feels

when no one is there for you.

When silence becomes

your only companion,

and the world turns its back

just when you need it most.”

I know the ache of waiting

for a voice that never arrives,

for a hand that never reaches,

for footsteps that never walk toward you.

I know the sting of loneliness

that burns deeper than fire

and colder than ice.

So I choose to be present.

I choose to stay.

Even if the world forgets me,

I do not want anyone else

to feel that hollow emptiness

I once carried.

If a single word of mine

can light up their night,

I will speak.

If a single touch of mine

can soothe their storm,

I will reach out.

If a single moment of my time

can make their burden lighter,

I will give it freely.

Not because I am strong,

but because I have been broken.

Not because I have everything,

but because I have once had nothing.

Not because I expect gratitude,

but because I understand pain.

The truth is simple—

the world is heavy enough.

If I can ease a little weight,

if I can dry a single tear,

if I can remind someone

that they are not invisible,

then my scars

have found their purpose.

So when people ask me again,

“Why are you always there for others?”

I will answer with the same smile:

“Because I know the hurt of absence,

and I choose to be the presence

I once longed for.”

And maybe, just maybe,

in being there for them,

I am also learning

to be there for myself.