if a tree falls, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

I totally love being the girl everyone loves to love on an utterly superficial level. The "rebound" girl, the "use-to-get-revenge-on-the-girl-I-actually-like" girl, the "love from afar" girl, the "random makeout" girl, the "go-out-with-until-someone-better-comes-along" girl, the "call-at-the-last-minute-when-the-people-I-actually-wanna-chill-with-cancel" girl, the "I-don't-know-what-I-want-and-you-seem-like-you'd-be-fun-to-lead-on" girl.
I love being the girl everyone loves to party with - unless it's too out of their way. And everyone wants to see - unless it doesn't fit perfectly into their schedule. And everyone sees fit to call - but only if they're waiting for the bus, or on the toilet, or otherwise holding out for something more important and/or significant to happen.
I love being put on hold, waiting for people who are late, lending people things only to never see them again, never being the first (or even, realistically, the fifth, priority), answering the phone at 2am for pointless conversations when I have work the next morning, and wondering if someone forgot they'd promised they'd do something for me.

But I especially love it how I never learn. How I consistently drop everything, drive for forty minutes, shell out $40, and then do a few favours, just for good measure. How I call the day of with well-wishes, then the day later to make sure they're alright. How I spend hours searching for the perfect card or just the right gift, or days hand-crafting the most eye-pleasing collage. How I pick up the tab, and offer to drive, and tell them not to worry about ruining my new dress.
And I love how I don't usually bat an eye, or regret it for one second. I don't even notice it, really, this giant discrepency, this complete abyss - the fact that the two of us will never meet, because as much as I'm trying, and as fast as I'm running towards them, panting, to catch up, they're finding a way to run twice as fast. And I sincerely don't notice it, not until I run into a brick wall and need someone to help pick me up - because that's the only time I'll stop running long enough to think: Who am I chasing? And why?
Why do I keep chasing people who never chase back?
And why do I have this unforgiving need to be liked?
Why can't I stress less and care less and do less and try less? And be more cold and more aloof and harder to read and less willing to help? Why can't I say "fuck off and die" and mean it?

I'm not Mother Teresa, I'm not the nicest person on the planet, I have my off-days, and I've forgotten to send out a few "Thank You" notes in my time. I'm not perfect, I don't attempt to be, and I don't expect anyone else to be either. But it seems, and maybe I think so unfairly, and it's quite possible that I'm wrong - but it just seems that, on average*, I care a lot more about people then they care about me, and that, on average, I do a lot more for people then they do for me, and that, on average, I'm starting to feel used and a little abused and a tad bit pissed off - because I don't think I should stop doing the things I do or feeling the way I feel, but it seems super counterproductive to keep investing in something that keeps kicking me in the face.

And I'm no saint, so don't get it twisted, because I'm clearly not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, but it's not like I expect giant dividends, either. I don't expect everyone to drop everything and come running, I don't expect anyone to drop anything, really, and a slow saunter is all the effort it'd usually take to please me - but I'm not going to lie - it'd be nice if they didn't use me as a welcome mat, or, at the least, noticed that that's exactly what they were doing once in a while.

*there are a few, albeit extremely notable, exceptions to this rule, and they know who they are, because I don't let them forget it