I was just being myself.
that's all it ever was.
no hidden meanings,
no hearts being passed around,
just someone healing,
trying to stay kind.

I laughed in spaces that felt safe,
joked around in places where I thought
I was understood.
not everything was a signal.
not every word meant more than it said.

but people like to watch
and fill in the blanks
with their own versions of me.
it's easier that way,
to turn a person into a rumor
than to ask them how they really feel.

they said they respected my privacy,
but what do you call it
when you're left out of conversations
you didn't even know you were in?
when sarcasm starts to sound familiar,
and silence feels like a choice?

I explained myself once.
twice.
maybe more.
but no one ever asked again.
they just looked,
and decided.

and maybe this won't mean anything,
or maybe it'll sting a little,
if the shoe fits.

but if you ever wonder why I stopped trying,
it's because friendship shouldn't
feel like defending myself
in a room full of people
who once called me home.