'I had always been quite different from everyone...' I mused, staring blankly out the window. It was true, I was so much different from everyone. Those who surrounded me had things for people to admire. I was different, looked down upon and shunned.
I had also realized, despite how much I hated it, that I had trust issues. It bothered me that I had doubts about even my closest friends. But, I can't help myself. There was always something to doubt, at least, that's what I had eventually came to believe. There had been times where I believed this had been a result of being the happiest I could be, carefree and high-spirited, and next thing I know, the one person who created that happiness took it all away. It happened on several occasions, but it couldn't be helped.
Sighing, I turned away from the window, resting my head on the desk. There was also the way I drew. I could never be content with the way I drew, it was terrible. Everyone says it's good, but as a result of my trust, I always believed them to be false.
Then there was how I wrote, little stories imagined in my head. Grammar, and spelling were key factors, and I was terrible at it. Those stories rarely made it past my mind, I was always afraid people would hate it, or be offended. I imagine in words, but they never work together.
'I'm really not a likable person...' I decided, looking back out the window. 'Why am I so un-trusting of people...?'
'Because you're an idiot.' said a voice, it's words leaking in to my mind. They were true, though. I really was. To be led on, I was going to let myself become happy once more.
This was one more thing to despise. The many personalities of me, running through my head, mentally attacking me. I was a sensitive person, most opt to crying, but I could easily be provoked. I hated it.
'I hate who I am, hate it, hate it, hate, hate hate.' I thought once more. But, one more thought followed.
It was always who I am.