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The Night Is My Escape
The night is my only escape. It is my only release. My release from everything around me. About what people think of me.
I know some are trying to care, but would you dare to think that about me? I know you do care, but it hurts. IT hurts to think you would think I would have done that. How could you think that about me? You know me better than this. Or at least I thought you did. You know me.
I did not drink. I do not drink. I will never drink. It is not me at all. Yet, you had the courage to think I did. You had the courage to assume that about me.
It seems like everything around me is changing. I thought I knew myself, but it turns out I never did. So don't you dare tell me you know me. Don't you dare tell me you know me inside and outside. You don't. You know absolutely nothing.
I was stupid. I posted a few things on Facebook I shouldn't have. But that gives no right to try and make assumptions. Assumptions about what I do. About what I did.
Yet, you dare to have the courage to judge me. You dare to try and tell me who i am. You dare to try and tell me who I was.
As I said before, you know nothing of the sort. You know nothing about me.
You can say you do, but you never will. We all know that.
Don't you dare tell me anything anymore. Just don't say anything. Say nothing.
My escape is fantasy. It was never real. And it never will be. I wish it did though, Oh, how I wish. The night is my escape, my remainder of why I am here. When I look out my window at night, and I see the stars, I feel different. I feel as if I can fly.
My window cracks up so I can see the stars better.
I want to go up in the sky with them and fly. I wasn't to fly so high up in the sky. I want, I want...
The stars make my worries go away as I gaze out. They are so beautiful.
The nights gives me the delusion that I am happy. That I was who I wanted to be.
But then the wind always swishes by, playing with my hair. And that's when reality strikes.
It was never real. The night cannot swallow me up and take me away.
My world slowly falls apart around me. Crumbling to dust piece by piece. No amount of superglue could ever fix it.
My life isn't so great now. The stars are just apart of the sky. A pretty back round. I wouldn't be able to fly between them and touch them.
They were up so high, and I'm stuck here. In reality. I wish that I could just escape.
But I can't. I'm stuck here with people who are trying to tell me who I am, who I was, and who I'll be.
They try to tell me I need help. I need to change. I need to saying the wrong things. I need to filter what I watch and what I say. And, more importantly, I was being icreditably stupid.
They tell me all these things. There are so many more. Like when they hold me my behavior was suspicious. That I was acting like I was drunk. And that the lemonade I held in my hand could have been something else.
Don't they trust me? They don't. And they make sure to tell me they don't. Oh, they tell me alright. They say it so much, my head hurts. It makes me want to scream and shout.
What did I do wrong? What did I do to make them think this? What did I do to make them not trust me? Who knows. Any they know. But they're wrong.
They won't realize that until it's too late to apologise. Ha.
But who cares?
I'm not who I was. I'm not the girl they know anymore. I've changed.
And now the night is my only escape.