Because it feels strange to be loved.

 

Everyone is special. You have to admit it - there are definitely one or two characteristics that you have which no one else around you do. Your personality differs from others. Sure, you can resemble a friend of yours - but he or she is not you. Even twins have different opinions and behaviors.

You are you.

And that's what matters.

Well, that's what I try telling myself as often as I can anyway.

I have always thought that fighting for my beliefs is something worthwhile - and up until today, I still feel the same way.

The only annoying thing about being the odd one out is that you feel strange amongst the people you know - like a misfit, a sore thumb - sticking out, attracting unwanted attention and hatred. 

I've tried to come to terms with that, oh yes, I have.

I've tried dissecting layers of thoughts - methodically, carefully - but of course answers don't come that easily. However, this doesn't mean that I haven't found out anything about myself. Sometimes certain thoughts and events allow me to figure myself out - and as ridiculous as it sounds, sometimes the worst things turn out to be the best.

I guess there's no point trying to deny them. My traits, I mean. Easily irritated? Check. Feisty? Okay, probably. Proud? Yes. Hates being told what to do? Of course. Rule-breaker? Well, that would depend on the circumstances, but most likely. 

Adorable? No, and I'll kill anyone who ever says that in my face - unless it's a girl I'm close with. So far, only Zi Shan and Jia Vei have said 'adorable' in my face and got a full smile from me in return. Why do I oppose against this word 'adorable' so much? Well, it's simple. I want to be seen as an equal - an equal who has the potential to do big things in life, an opinionated individual who can change and inspire others - instead of a doll or a wallflower, arranged just to sit pretty in a living room.

I tend to imagine impossible scenarios. Oh, yes, I do. On a daily basis - where ever I am, whoever I'm with. 

And I realize that I'll probably never be able to stop these thoughts as long as I live. That's why I pen them down - that's why I listen to them, instead of try to deny them. To imagine, to create. These simple words can go quite a long way.

In short, I wouldn't be happy if I ever stopped imagining.

That's how hopeless it is for me. I dislike reality and I end up projecting my thoughts about something that doesn't aid me in any way possible. All I can do is to get lost in the worlds I create, the fantasies of journeys, the love of characters from a fictional tale.

It's sad, sure, but it's what keeps me alive.