Empathy is a strange word. You go through your whole life feeling the pain of others, putting yourself in their position. But how long can you keep doing that when it never seems to be reciprocated? It often feels like a word used to attack your entire character, as if you don’t care about anyone and only put yourself first. But that’s not the truth. The truth is, you just got too tired of doing it. Too exhausted in a way that drained your entire being, to the point where you had nothing left to give.
Now, if that makes me selfish, then I apologise. But I cannot keep living in the shadows of others, purely pleasing them while I suffer in silence. And when you finally choose yourself in certain areas of your life, you’re told you only care about yourself when in reality, you were forced into that choice by difficult situations that tore your heart apart. Situations where, if you didn’t choose yourself, you wouldn’t make it out alive.
And yet you sit there, still thinking of how others would feel. But no one sees that when you are alone, you are distraught by the thought of not being able to do things right for everyone. And it consumes you to the point you look like you don’t have empathy, because you’ve exhausted yourself in the dark to be able to show it in the light.
The Undiluted Thought 
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