Do you know me? I am not who you know. I am not who others know. I am an amalgamation of statements intended to portray an ideal. I'm not heroic. I'm not rich. I'm a liar. And I'm damn good at it.
I don't care about others but I do care what others think. Not because I want to be liked, but because I want myself to believe that I am liked. I want to believe that I am missed even though I don't miss you. I collect friends like currency and they're gone just as quickly.
Does this make me a bad person? I provide companionship at a base level - isn't that better than being cold? Or do you hate the idea that our affection is ungenuine?
To know me is to hate me. And I can't stand to do that to you.
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