I hate telling you my issues.
I hate breaking down in front of you.
I hate having to confess my pathetic little habits to get told
that I'm beautiful,
that I'm a great person,
and that everything's going to be okay.
I hate being told the same thing everytime,
and not being strong enough to believe
that it's entirely true.
I hate having to be reassured constantly
that I'm not doing anything wrong,
that I'm worrying for nothing,
that despite my anxieties
you still accept me,
you still love me,
and that you're proud of me.
I don't want to bother you.
I don't want to burden you.
I don't want to scare you off.
So I'll hide.
I'll hide behind a mask.
Now you know why I'm always 'fine',
and why I'm always tired.