I sometimes wonder if it’s worth trusting any of my friends. I carry the constant worry that my friends will one day leave me. Every time I talk to my family, they tell me about everybody they trust… and it doesn’t include me. And I trust my family more than anyone else! So why would they trust me least? Am I not good enough? Am I too out-of-their-league for them just because I’m different?
These are the times I believe I’m adopted. I’m very different from my family, I’m the least trusted… sometimes I wish I had been adopted. Then maybe I’d be better understood by my biological family. As it is, I don’t know if I am adopted. But I carry scars and wounds hardly anyone sees.
Not even you, dear diary of mine.