Dear...

Dear Parents

For long you've asked "where has my sweet, cute, innocent child gone?". For long you've believed my friends are still those in middle school; you don't even know who is my best girl friend, or with whom I have fallen in love with, or who is my best friend and has my admiration and gratitude. You barely know what is around my life, and also you barely know what's about me. I can't blame you: it's my fault. And today, I want to answer your rhetoric question.

Your sweet, cute, innocent child is scared. After 8 chapters you know nothing about, that child is hidden underneath layers and layers of fear, hate, pride and hope. I've trying to prove I can be an extrovert, that I can be scary at debates, that I can be a friend. That little child needed protection and was so innocent he could be hurt easily. You pretend you no longer see that child because you can't see the innocence. But can't you see the necessity? Can't you see I still need protection? I am so sorry I am not that child that wanted the world to be a better place out of tolerance; today, I am a child that wants the world to be a better place of out of struggle.

I understand you feel disappointed when you realize I am not feeling alright and I still avoid telling you anything. I feel the same way when my trusted friends do not trust me enough. But I must tell you... I show you a fake version of myself because it is the stronger one, the one you can bare, the one that is not as weak as to be considered damaged. If I can't be your sweet innocent child, I'll be your cold, invincible older son. It's better than the crazy, sinful and addicted child I am, isn't it?