You laugh a little too hard, stop, listen to your voice. You want to say something but you hate hearing yourself speak. You want people to know you’re not silly, you’re not stupid, you’re worthy of their company. You smile, signifying nothing but complacence. You just want people to like you.
He’s standing in front of you, absolutely beautiful. His voice sends chills down your spine. You remember too well the touch of his skin. He isn’t even an ex, just a coulda-wudda-shudda been that you never should have liked in the first place, that never really liked you in the first place. You miss his lips. You’re his best friend. You love him and you hate him. He’s always too close and too oblivious. You still crave him, even after all that’s been said, all that’s been done. You just want him to notice you.
She’s always cheerful, laughing, not even stunningly beautiful but she draws people in. She has that effect on people that you wish you did. She has a huge smile, she talks too much, the world revolves around her. She belittles your problems, hers are always more important. You are afraid to introduce her to your friends, especially males, because she steals them away. She’s your best friend. You envy her. You hate her. She will never know.
They have no idea who you are. They brought you up but they never really spoke to you, never took the time to get to know you. They think you’re spoilt and selfish. You spend your life trying to please them. You are afraid to go back home, terrified to live under their roof again. Glad you escaped when you did. You hate them sometimes. You love them so much it hurts. You want to be a child again, you want to hug them and kiss them like you never even did when you were a child. You will never tell them you love them. You will never tell them thank you.
You fantasize about screaming one day.
You never will.
Everyone has a secret life.
No one ever tells anyone else what they really think, what they really want, who they really are.
You are learning this, slowly… that you are more honest that most people.
That no one is ever really truly happy. They only think they are, or pretend to be.
