Smiles all around, Masks on the Ground

I was pretty sure no one had expected me to suddenly pack everything up and disappear. They knew me as this nice, friendly girl who smiled and tried to help if someone had problems. They never saw the mask that I wore. They never even knew if I had problems, because telling your problems to someone else is just downright stupid. Your friends tell you that they care when in reality they don’t give two shits about you and how you feel. They only want what’s good for them and your problems certainly don’t do any good to them. I guess, I grew up then, at the start of March. When HE friend-zoned me and SHE started acting so strange. Or maybe I just opened my eyes and realized I had been too naïve for my own good. I started seeing the lies, the hate, the anger. I could see what everyone felt and honestly, it scared me, because with this new feeling, I started being so uncaring. I knew what to expect and when I got let down, I just waved my hand and didn’t care. When my best friend traded me for a know-it-all bitch, I shrugged my shoulders and told myself “that’s life, get over it”. I scared myself. I’m still frightened of what I feel and how I act. I had become an uncaring monster that your parents had warned you about.

I found myself wondering, very rarely, maybe just a few times a day about their expressions when they found my letters. I imagined how they looked, but I wanted to see them. I wanted to know if I was right. Right about how they felt about me. I thought about my mum and how she re-read my letter few times a day and tried to blame herself. I knew that in the end she got angry and told herself to stop caring. If I were a good kid I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have packed up and got away. Yet I did and what was she supposed to do?

Then I thought about my so called best friend. How did she react? Did I hurt her feelings? Did I hurt her like I wanted to? I wanted her to feel how I felt for the past six months. I wanted her to know that she had hurt me with all the lies to my face. That she had hurt me like someone else had hurt me before. I wanted her to know, that I had turned hollow and numb because of her.

Lastly, my nice message to a few close friends. I wondered what they thought. I hadn’t even waited for a reply from anyone. Something inside me told me to forget everything and start new. Why should you dwell and wait for someone to save you, when no one wants to do anything with you?

I sighed quietly to myself, as I brought a cigarette to my lips. I took a drag and looked around, like a deer caught in headlights. I was alone. Afraid. Free. I smiled at that. How can you define freedom? Does it have something to do with happiness? Because if it does, I certainly don’t feel happy, nor free. I think I felt even more caged up than ever before. Even my choice to pack up and disappear didn’t seem that clever. People around me continued to pass right by me, without any care or acknowledgment. I couldn’t blame them. I could barely focus my eyesight and it took all my strength to drag my tired body towards my new small flat that I would call home for whoever knows how long. North London didn’t seem that appealing anymore.