I’ve always had this feeling, that I was different.

Since childhood, I had this

perspective of myself that I couldn’t or didn’t fit in with the rest. I always had this
“fake mask” on, pretending to be something that I wasn’t. I had this trait, of
observing people. I didn’t like to talk, or meet new people, even though I
apparently wished to.

I had this feeling, since I remember that I was different, not a unique-type of
different, but an awkward kind. A kind that, people wouldn’t understand. I had
many thoughts, but I kept them all to myself, not that I didn’t want to share, but
the fact that I was afraid to share them. I couldn’t trust anyone, not that I was
paranoid, but I felt too insecure, or fearful to share them.

I always had this habit, to think about the future. To think of what was to become,
of me and the others around me. However, I believed that I would always seclude
myself from others.

Even though, everyone at least to me seemed alike. I had observed people so

greatly, that I could tell what was going on behind their heads. I could sort of
guess people’s feelings.

Sometimes, I would feel really depressed for no apparent reason. I don’t know
why, but soon I would.

Me and my family, lived in an apartment. I was the only child, and I got a lot of
attention from my parents, too much that I didn’t want any more, in fact I wished
for less.