Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you feel more than you think, although you think a lot because logic is important. Maybe underneath all that hardness, you’re made of mashed up emotions. Maybe you’re scarred and bruised, but healed and fine. Maybe you’re tired, but somehow because of that you’re inspired. Maybe you’re quiet because you like watching people and it feels safer inside your head. Maybe you’d rather do things alone because you don’t like participating when you can look at everything else when you take a few steps back. Maybe you’re misunderstood as indifferent and ignorant but all you really do is try to see the beauty in everything and love everything even if it’s bad. Maybe you don’t voice it out because you don’t want to seem fake since genuine kindness is rare these days and people don’t buy it so you don’t want to be isolated. Maybe people can’t see you for who you really are because you’re never close enough, so you always end up all alone. Maybe you don’t mind not being noticed, and all you need is the warmth of the love inside of you when you learn to love a world that is dead set on hurting you.

**-AA