It’s hard, to know that you have to keep everything to yourself. Knowing that no one, no one out there is going to understand your circumstance, no one will sympathize with you, no one is ever going to know and understand what you’re going through, ever. It hurts.

You know those heart to heart talks with someone close. It’s supposed to help you feel better, right? But it’s like… I can’t. I can’t let them see the truth, I choose to deceive them, let them believe that I’m the naïve and innocent little girl they knew, let them stay happy and free from all these worries at least. All the pain and suffering, I choose to keep it to myself, so that at least, things will look bright for them. But having heard you say all that, it hurts so deeply. Like as if you took a fucking knife, and stabbed me directly at my wound, adding salt to it after which. It hurts so badly, I was tempted to scream the truth out, but I knew better than to do so. There’s really no point to let you see the truth behind all my frowns, behind all the tears, behind my little wall, my barrier.

You say you’re just trying to tear down my barrier, my wall, so as to let me step closer to family. So that I’ll see, I’ll feel, or perhaps I’ll understand things better, so that I’m closer, more real. But hey; do you know why I placed my walls? Why I put up the barriers? Why I separate myself from everyone? Please, stop pretending as if you know everything. I’ve had enough. You don’t know the full story, you don’t know what life is like for me, and you don’t know what I’ve been through. You say your life is hard, that you’ve got no friends, you don’t do well in school or at work, you find yourself unable to reach your goals, you think that I’ve got it easy, that I have everything I need, everything I want, I don’t have to worry about a thing. Please, you don’t know a thing about what I’m going through; don’t act as if you do. It’s not helping that you’re always trying to push me down just because I look as if I’m fine, that I’m doing well, that I’m not worried about a damn thing, or that I look as if I’m so much better off than you; because I’m not, I never was, it was all but a front I put up, and you foolishly believed.

I thought I had things sorted out, within myself; that I was finally in full acceptance of things. Turns out, I wasn’t; not even the slightest bit. I’m still all jumbled up inside, my thought running wild, things are flipped, and I’m not mentally secured. Honestly, I need to stop lying to myself. I need to start facing the facts, all the truths, even if it’s going to hurt. It feels as if everything, time, the world, me, it’s all stale. Until I’m fully able to accept the truth, I’ll never be able to move forward.

For you, I seem to be worry free, I seem to not care about things, I’m always running about happily, I don’t have to think, things come to me easily, that I’m not matured, I’m always just copying off others, I’m forever happy and etc. That’s probably how I seem like to you, probably how I act. But truth is, I’m not. I’m not in the least bit happy that I’m like this, I’m not worry free, I care about things, about others, I’m not always happy, I do think, and perhaps maybe I over think, I’m not copying off others, this I know clearly, and I’m just trying to hid myself, to make out a façade of a naïve and innocent little girl. It’s tiring, but I’ve got to keep this front up, I got to make sure I don’t crumble, and stay strong always.

Do you enjoy seeing me cry? Do you enjoy making yourself seem ‘big’ and ‘authoritative ’? Do you enjoy breaking down my walls and barriers? Do you enjoy making yourself feel smart and knows everything? Do you enjoy tearing down my confidence? Do you enjoy seeing my suffer because I seem like I never did before? Do you enjoy seeing me all weak and hopeless?
Because what you do now, is clearly equivalent to these. It just shows how much you know about me, about how much you truly understand about your family.

Thank you. Thank you for letting me understand all these. After years of trying so hard to prove all these wrong, of trying to believe that I was wrong at judging you on this, of the fact the I don’t truly understand things. To finally know that I was right all along, but I guess, you’ll never get to see this. And will probably still be living in your little shell of deception. I’ll just stand and watch you deceive yourself through all the blatant lies, watch you stand proud and tall, while I’ll take your fall. Because I don’t see a point in trying to show you the truth anymore; I don’t see a point in trying anymore. I’ve probably already given up long ago. But as of now, and onwards, I’ll never, and won’t even bother to try and resist the plunge. As I predict the end will still be the same.