Once upon a time, I was a somewhat happy kid.

Once upon a time, I wasn't half as scared as I was these days.

Scared?
Terrified.

And to think, all it took as one incident.

The most vivid one was when I heard about somebody whom I respected talking about me behind my back about something PersonA told her. And PersonA happened to be one of my closest friends.

PersonA told the other person that a certain group of people who I thought I could trust didn't actually like me and that I was annoying.
Needless to say when I stumbled across this little piece of secret information, I felt like I had just gotten smacked across my face. I trusted these people and I had felt like I had almost belonged.

Well, not anymore, it seemed.

It's been two years since that incident, and I chose not to believe anyone: for I was loath to ask the person I 'respected', I didn't fully want to believe the source of which I had stumbled across the information, and when i confronted PersonA, she denied it.

what was I to do? Nothing.

Two years and I have almost forgotten about the incident: or maybe not quite as much as I would have liked to believe. Sometimes, when I laugh with them, talk with them, suddenly the incident pops up in my head and I stop laughing. I wonder what they're actually thinking about me in their heads: are they wondering why I'm so incredibly annoying or are they just going along with the moment with no ulterior motives?

It kinda gets me down sometimes.

Two years, and I go around everybody sometimes feeling like I'm tip-toeing on shards of glass.
Two years and i feel like an outcast sometimes.

Not cool.

So, are you happy now?
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