When I was little, I had an imaginary friend. He was an elephant, he was my age, walked on two feet, and was my height. I was four.
I don’t have an imaginary friend anymore. On the contrary, I have imaginary enemies now. I think everyone hates me, that they look at me and think negative things, that every time someone talks to me they have an underlying motive, that they’re talking to me for a reason other than they want to be nice and make friends with me.
I also have a terrible habit of interpreting everything in the worst possible way, even if people don’t mean it that way. I interpret everything as an attack on me, or an attempt to start an arguement. I really believe people people will start arguments with me to cause irreparable damage to our friend-/relationship… I believe people are only with me because they have to or because it’s convenient for them, never because they really truly want to. I believe people don’t really like me.
But just like I knew the elephant wasn’t really real when I was four, I know that this isn’t really real now. I doubt strangers think much of me at all. Most people are just being friendly. In the majority of cases people don’t mean things as bad as I think they do. The friends who stayed my friends even when we didn’t have a single class together all last year are proof that people aren’t just friends with me because it’s convenient or they have to. My online friends must like me somehow otherwise they wouldn’t spend time talking to me. It’s all in my head. The rational part of me knows this. The rational part is not always the dominant part though.
I have flaws. Big flaws. Ugly flaws. Things are wrong with me. These are some of them.