I wish you’d acknowledge my existence. I wish that when you look at me you don’t just see a face or hear just a voice. I wish you’d look at me and see a heart, a beating heart. Filled with emotions and goals and pain and suffering and happiness and failures and struggles, that when you look at me you’d know that there’s more to me than you thought. That you can’t just compartmentalize me. That when you think of me or see me, you think and see a friend. Someone to talk too, someone to confide in, someone who cares. Someone you can trust. Above all, someone you can trust. Is that really so much to ask? Especially when I see you the way I wish you’d see me.