Nobody Knows

We see what we want to see and feel what other people want us to feel.
And yet knowing this doesn't make us care any less.
Sometimes I wonder: do you ever think of me?
Do you see me? Do you see me as I am?
It doesn't matter in the end.
Nothing does.
But before the end there's a lot going on, sometimes too much.
I wonder if you know. I wonder if anyone does?