I wish I knew why it bothered me so badly, but I really think you have me pegged all wrong. I even watched it while it was happening in the circles that you kept, but I couldn’t intervene. Now I trace my steps backwards in a one-sided story searching for clues. What did I do wrong? Maybe it wasn’t anything. Maybe my suspicions are true, and the people you spend your time with have helped you form a tainted image of me. Or maybe I really just hate being misunderstood. But maybe I do have it all wrong. Maybe you can really see me. All of me. But why can’t I just accept that and move on? There is nothing special about you. There is no reason for me to feel at a loss here. In this place there are people who often naturally hate one another, and for no reasons. Maybe that’s just it, but I can’t accept that so I must pretend. I keep going about my day pretending that it doesn’t bother me, but I would be a complete liar if I told you that it doesn’t hurt a little.