Funny how even if I am with the people I knew who know me the most and have accepted me for being me, there are still times when I feel like a freaking outsider. That I was trying too hard to belong to the point that I allow myself to become a lapdog. Hell. I feel like a lapdog. Eager to please my masters so I could get inside the house and enjoy their company.
It seemed so happy and fun-filled when I was looking from the outside that all I wanted to do was to get in and have fun, too.Yet, once I forced myself in, I have realized more than a hundred times that being in wasn't fun as it seems to be. Maybe that is the reason why I felt that I still do not belong even if I'm in there. I forced myself in.
And while I'm feeling like an idiot, mulling over how pathetic I was and at the same time, feeling forlorn in the middle of a happy crowd, I realized that there are times that it is better to stay out. From the inside, I feel like I'm in a cage. Being inside makes me want to break free. And yet, when I;m out there, I keep looking for a place to belong to. I guess this is one of the many complications of being me.
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