Secrets.
They are always hard to keep, especially when you are a bad liar. Shame for me then, people always concerned when you wander off into day dreaming, or you don't smile for a while.
Some people actually like to be worried and fussed over, not me, I've learnt how to deal with my own problems, on my own, and hardly show that they were bothering me, but sometimes I slipped up, but who doesn't?
I didn't always use to be like this. All pessimistic and depressing – if you think I am.
There was once when I was happy, and always used to help people before myself, not really having a lot of thought about if there was something wrong with me, just the people around me.
My main concern was my mom, Renée, she's only 30 and has already been diagnosed with breast cancer, my step-father died – got shot down in Iraq, out of sight of everybody, no medical treatment around to save him. So obviously, I had to take care of my mom, not myself, I had to. For Phil, myself, her friends.
I never used to be like this, until that night when I was 15. So innocent, I didn't think I deserved what happened to me. Nobody does.