you know nothing

sometimes i wish i can hold things to myself better. i wish i can stop opening up to the wrong people.

because the last time i did that, i was misjudged badly. so bad that the second i got back to my room, i stared at the wall for... i don't know how long but the next i knew it was the next prayer time already. they thought i was faking my anxiety, i was okay, but i faked it for attention.

if only they know how bad it was before. if only they know how much i trembled just to order food at Alamanda's food court when i was 12. or how scary it was to just talk to my own teacher at the front desk in class when i was 16, or how scary it was to just be seen in public with my head up. if only they know how self-conscious i am and i really wish one day i can't stop being like this.

their example of anxiety hit me right on the dot but i couldn't put myself to defend myself any longer because i just realized that they judged me wrongly, and they might do more of that if i open up even more. i couldn't let that happen. so i let them with the acknowledgment that i was faking my anxiety. well, better that than opening the old scar just to be left wounded, smeared with blood.

if only you know just how much this trembling, overthinking and sleepless nights lead me, you would definitely never say that. in fact, you would feel sorry for having said that to someone who seems to have her guard up high. and that's when i realized, too late, that you wouldn't understand me at all. you won't even try. because if you ever try, you would know how fragile i am, how easily anxious i get and how easily i overthink things. and it's not just normal overthinking. no, it's not, though i wish it is.

so fuck you.

keep misunderstanding me and think i was begging for attention when attention has always been my number one fear. go on.