Some people just won’t appreciate you until you’re no longer around. Sometimes people can’t see what they have; they only see what’s missing. They can’t even see that they have a preoccupation with recognizing what’s absent; it’s simply in their nature to do it. You can give and they’ll usually take, maybe you’ll even get a “thank you,” but at the end of the day there’ll be a desire for more. You give a hand, they want an arm. You give a day’s time, they want a week. You give the earth, they want the entire galaxy, and you wonder if you’ll ever do enough. If you’ll ever be enough. You know deep down you won’t, but you’ll continue to try, because maybe eventually they’ll see what they have.
When you look out, you see a large yard with potential to be the greenest, healthiest, most beautiful lawn in existence if cared for. You feel excited but when you try to show it to them, the look of disappointment worn on their face quickly brings your emotional high down. The anticlimactic unimpressed look in their eyes crushes your soul — how can they not see what you see? You begin planting a garden on the side, mowing and watering the grass, doing your best to make your vision of a picturesque, utopic lawn come true, because maybe then they’ll start to see what you see. Maybe then they’ll see what they have.
Sometimes people won’t see what they have. They see what others have and want that. They see others’ filtered pictures in high definition, under a fancy tint and they want that moment of stunning beauty that was captured in a still shot, but they want it every second of every single day. If you can’t give it to them then they’ll find it elsewhere because if it were meant to be, you’d provide them with what they want and you’d do it immediately, with minimal error.
Sometimes people can’t see what they have. Maybe they’re overlooking, or ungrateful, or need glasses in the form of a wakeup call. Sometimes people can’t see what they have until it’s gone, and unfortunately that means you won’t be appreciated until your efforts cease to exist. What you’ve given must be taken away, or at the very least the supply of affection must be cutoff. Sometimes there’s no other way. You’ll be an artist who wasn’t cherished until after their death, or the luxury of running water, amenity unrecognized until nonexistent. Sometimes people can’t see what they have, and it’s simply impossible for you to show them before it’s too late, because ‘too late’ gives everyone.