It is just not easy being me. No one will ever know how does it feel to be me. Everyday this false front is slowly being ripped apart piece by piece exposing my inner insecurities and what nots. I feel myself dying a little inside every single moment waiting for something or someone. The best part to this is that it will always remain uncertain no matter how much I tried to reason with myself. I have been withholding all my instincts, just to ensure that maybe somehow or somewhere, there is still a reason for you to smile even if it is not me. But that too will come with a price and which im paying for it. Maybe one day you will come to know of it, but till then I just hope that it is not too late.
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