It’s the kind of hurt that makes you want to scream into your pillow at night and punch a wall. But what’s worse about it is that immediately after, your mind starts to turn on itself. You get mad at yourself for caring. “You’re overreacting,” you tell yourself. “It’s no big deal.” You hate yourself for feeling weak, so you turn around and force yourself to be strong. You put up a tough front and smile and act like everything’s fine and dandy, and no one ever asks you if something is wrong because YOU are their north star, their constant. You are the one they come to when everything is falling apart, and you try and piece them back together even though you can’t fix yourself.