I can’t believe I thought that I was important in your life when I’m not. I know it was wrong for me to do so, but I just couldn’t help it. I can’t make myself believe that I don’t mean anything to you; but obviously, through the way you’re acting and seeing how you act towards others, I’m learning to face the truth: I’m not significant in your life.

What can I say? I’m a good observer. I see the way you treat others. After all, we are connected. I have an idea of what’s happening in your life.

    Let’s start with Spring. Oh you just love Spring, don’t you? When he’s the one who compliments you, you blush; flushing your leaves with lovely apples. You giggle at his simplest jokes and you like the way he tickles your leaves. When he’s not noticing you, you make a habit of trying to catch his attention to start a conversation. When he goes away, you’d anxiously wait for his return. You’d endure the rest of the year just because you want to see him again. You believe that you can’t live without him; what a lucky guy. 

Just when I think you’d get over him, Summer comes. Not that you love the heat, but you do love the way people adore you. They come to you for shade, and praise you for being the perfect place to have a picnic under. You crave for the attention they give you. You always want to be noticed by others through how beautiful you are, or how useful you can be. All through this weather, I’m the one who’s there trying my best to keep you hydrated; but even so, you don’t notice me. I’m not acknowledged. 

 Then Autumn comes, and you’re just depressed. Your leaves, once beautiful, fall every time you cry, and here’s the reason: the only person with you, now, is me. I don’t get it, really. We used to be happy together. I took care of you and you took care of me. You used to smile a lot, and that always made my day. We used to have the best conversations, though shallow, but we didn’t mind. You used to be sweet and thoughtful, but now, you treat me as if we never had a history. I’m trying my best, but you don’t notice anymore because you’re preoccupied with wanting other people’s attention. I just don’t know what happened.

When Winter comes and you’ve lost all your happiness, you become so cold; as cold as the weather. I’m wearing my brain out to find out what I did to make you act like this to me. I’m really confused. We barely talk now, even when I try to start a conversation. I thought we’d be happy together; I guess I just assumed. In the white, barren environment, we act as if we’re strangers. It’s so awkward to speak to you now. This sucks.

Oh how I wish that you would read this and finally know how I feel; but then again, how could you? I’m just the root underground that you would never bother to love. I’m that insignificant to you.

*This is fictional*