It's a mystery to me why I always need to hide.

Or always want to, anyway.

Maybe I'm afraid of what people will think of the real me.

The me that does dumb things when nobody's looking.

The me that sings in the shower

And eats pizza from the crust to the tip

Maybe I want to be someone else.

Someone who doesn't do any of those things.

Someone who is loved by everyone.

Or maybe I want to be sure of who I am before I let people see me. I want to know who I really am before I show people every side of me. I want to become a full person.

Then I won't hide.

Then I will live.