You want me to be unhappy, because you're happy

Your happiness depends on my depression. If I am depressed it enables you, it gives you reason to throw me away because who would want someone so unworthy and so unhappy? My unhappiness would tarnish your happiness, so why not just slip into the river like a dead baby? Why not conceal me under the carpet and tread on me with the hardness of your shoes to flatten me out and disguise me in your past, so you don't have to mention to anybody that I was real?

If I'm unhappy it happys you. You are happy knowing you are triumphant in the wake of my failure. The unraveling of my emotions makes me a lunatic to your genius as you bask in the glory of your warm successes. If I dare to dream of happiness, you laugh because I'm so irrelevant.

If I cry, if I scream, if I anger, if I, if I, if I...it legitimizes you're right and I'm wrong.