be yourself

I feel like I’m always trying to impress you. But the urge to strike you is sometimes so desperate that I make myself out to be someone I’m not.

I finally comprehend that pretending to be someone else is a dead-end road to unhappiness. It’s only now when I’ve reach this blockade that I regret going down this road. It seems so obvious. How could I be so stupid as to lie about my persona and still expect to live a satisfied life? How did I convince myself that the sealed off road was my desired destination all along?

I’m not proud of what I’ve done and I wish I hadn’t done it.

I didn’t want to let you down. I didn’t want you to find something in my true self that you weren’t expecting nor wanting to find.

Like now.

I just… wanted you to love me.