I told you once that I didn't believe anyone who said that they were a good person.
I said that people who believe that they are good, will never strive to improve themselves and therefore will never be a better person than who they are now.
I could tell that you were hurt. You believe so righteously that you are good.
So when you asked me if I thought I was a good person, I laughed and told you no.
That there was no good inside me.
Maybe that made me seem righteous too.
I just didn't know how to explain the conflict inside me.
Because I use to think that I was good.
I didn't understand it when people didn't like me. I didn't understand that when I spoke people could hear me. That I existed in their worlds just as much as they existed in mine.
So when someone said they didn't like me. I assumed that they just didn't know me.
Because how could anyone not like me, right? I was good. A good person. A decent person.
The more I think back the more wrong I feel.
Because how did anyone stand me? That selfish kid. That silent kid. The one who spoke without thinking with nothing to say. The one who never listened. The one that craved approval so desperately that they became a hollow ghost waiting for someone to tell them that they were good enough. Decent enough. Loved enough.
So if you asked me now if I think that I'm a good person.
My answer won't change much.
No. There is not enough good inside me.
And there will never be enough.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Non-Fictionas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
