I come off as a happy, hyper person. A human who lives a happy life. I always ask myself, am I really that person? The second I wake up, I want to go back to sleep. Am I still tired? No. I feel as if the day I'm waking up to has NO purpose. My room is my santuary. Where I can be myself. When I come out, I always have to impress someone. If I am the way I am, they get mad. They get disappointed. Worst of all, they fade away. Never to return again as the same person I knew from the start. There's always that lingering memory in the back of your head. It stays there for so long, you can't see each other in the same way, and it saddens me.
Humans have high expectations. If you don't meet them, they laugh. They act. They talk. They hurt. What are these expectations? Normality. Perfection. Personality. Those are the things I have to worry about every day. I HAVE to meet the expectation. If I don't, the people I care about, won't care about me. Now I ask myself: If they care about you as much as you care about them, why can't you just be you? The people who be themselves get stuck in this world of shame. This world of "nonconformity." Nobody respects them. Little or even none care for them. But on the inside, they all want to fit in, they all want to be loved. Just like us.
I'm scared I will be stuck in that position. So I try, and try, and try. Until I find that I, myself, am fading away.
