Selfish
I’m not very unique, I’m not special at all. I’m not well spoken, I’m not interesting, I’m not very entertaining. I’m not good at the things I do, I’m not attractive or funny.
I don’t even consider myself human. I have the sex appeal of a peeled carrot. So when people praise me, it feels strange. When I get compliments part of me deeply enjoys and cherishes them—while the part feels conflicted over them—I don’t really believe that they mean it, actually I don’t really believe anything anyone says. I am not a mind reader, and even if I was I would not want to hear any of the negative and hateful things people would theoretically say about me inside their minds.
For me, it’s hard to tell intent. I don’t know if any of my relationships are genuine. I don’t know if anyone I consider close even think of me the same way, I cannot tell tone well, I don’t know and I’ll never know. I know it’s selfish, but I’m scared I’ll be left alone again. I’m scared that nothing anyone told me was from their hearts. You can’t ask someone how they feel about you, since they can just lie to you. They can stroke and feed your ego only to speak harm over you privately.
I feel so self-centered and egotistical. I don’t want to be alone again.