There’s a reason why I keep it all inside
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There are days when I question my significance. I ask every inanimate thing about whether I matter to them. Whether my companionship was a beautiful experience for them. Are they ever afraid to lose me?
People see me as a naturally cheerful kid. Trust me. I can live up to it. I can wear a mask to hide it all, pretend everything’s fine, and cry alone. Though this feeling doesn’t stay forever, and I forget it soon after I sleep. But there are times when it all starts to dawn on me, and I’m unable to keep calm.
I don’t like to talk anymore. I don’t like to remember anyone. It’s not that I hate them, but sometimes I feel nobody ever understands me. Those are the days when I need some personal reflection time. Often the conclusion is that I feel everything so deeply. But it’s like telling yourself the color of your blue eyes is blue. Surely time helps me calm my mind. But I lose many relationships in this process of finding myself, and often people say I’m rude.
But looking back at all this, it surely has done me some favor. I rarely expect from anyone, and they’re mostly like temporary pages in my book. I surely admire them, but I prefer being uninteresting and avoid people at all.
I wonder at the strangeness of my thoughts, and I prefer to keep them inside. But I’ll let it flow for now. A proof that I’ve got a heart too.