About

I was always around, but I never belonged anywhere. Even standing in the middle of laughter, my voice was the only one that sounded quiet. The other kids would hit each other on the back over nothing, swear at each other, and yet they mingled so naturally. I found that fascinating. No, I was envious. Why can't I do that? Why can't I laugh, talk, and fight "like a man" like they do, and just exist without a second thought? Whenever a problem arose, even without knowing why, I always felt like it was my fault. Even when no one pointed a finger at me, I was the first to bow my head. That was easier. If I'm the bad person, then this awkwardness finally makes sense. I've known since I was little. That the feeling of "liking" someone other kids talked about looked a little different for me. I felt like I shouldn't get caught. If I were found out, I felt like I would truly be alone. I tried to deny it. I told myself it wasn't true, that it was a mistake, that it would get better with time. But there was no such thing. I was just me. Now I can say it. That it's no big deal. But the me back then didn't know that, so I erased a lot of myself.