During the recollection today...
"You have to complete the sentences, okay? First sentence is: People think I'm _______?"
Happy.
I have a disposition to live up to. I can't be sad. It's not what people expect of me.
Sometimes, when people see that you're not your usual "self", they start wondering. And when they start wondering, they start whispering. And when they start whispering, they start thinking. And sometimes, what they think is not similar to what you feel.
It's easier this way. Lying my way out by keeping up a happy facade. It's not pretending. It's merely covering up pain, self-inflicted or not.
You can't blame me. I try hard. And I'm struggling.
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