He thinks I’m the it thing; if only he knew the truth

"You're so strong," I heard him say and I look up to see he's genuinely speaking.i gulped down the lump in my throat as hung my head low not wanting to answer to his accusation so he continued. "You're the strongest most beautiful and talented person I've ever met, the way you speak it intrigues me; have you ever considered writing?" I looked up then and nodded the only thing I could do in that moment. It's like he wanted to persuade me into doing something so her continued speaking. "You're so great at using proper English and you speak so well why don't you write like a book or something", to that I smile and said I did think about it sometimes.

.........................................................

Why in hell is he being so nice, why can't he see me for who I am, I'm a broken puzzle, all my pieces are scattered about its like I'm on a treasure hunt in finding my own life. The funny thing people always see me as this beautiful strong person but deep down I know it's just a cover story; one I lead them into believing anyway.

My life is anything but easy or great and as I sat there looking into his eyes I wanted to cry and tell him how weak and fragile I truly am, how I cry ever so often and loose myself at times drinking too much or even trying to smoke just to numb the pain.

Of course I've considered writing a book in fact my life is like a novel taking on different stages as would a chapter. I couldn't write to feed myself I'm no good with words, I get tongue tied easily and I'm too shy to even speak to him now. How in hell could I become an author.

The truth is sometimes you can't give people the satisfaction of knowing the true you or even a mere picture of the struggles you face in an attempt to dogs he pity or sympathy. People tend to see the best in people but the truth is it's only you who can truly share the pain.