Why Do I Care?

“Why do you care?” he asked me. It was late and he was drunk, I knew that. He didn’t like me ruining his fun, but I knew if he drank anymore he wouldn’t be able to make it to that interview the next morning. The question shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, but I couldn’t help it. After 4 years of being by his side, he had the nerve to ask why I cared. Well, I suppose I was never really by his side, more like two paces behind. Always ready to catch him if he fell and boy did he fall. When his fiancé dumped him, I was the one who got back the ring. When his mother died, I was the one who made the funeral arrangements. When he lost his job, I let him stay with me while he continued looking. No matter what blows he’d been dealt, I was on standby ready to patch him up. It hurt knowing after all this time, I was still as transparent to him as I’ve always been. It’s my fault for sticking around. My sister warned me, told me to give it up before I got hurt. Well, it was too late now, that man owned my heart and he didn’t even know it. What could I say to him now? I care because I’ve been hopelessly in love with you. I care because even if you never love me, I want to help you achieve your dreams. I care because I love getting hurt by you.

“I don’t,’’ I finally responded.