“It’s hard sometimes Nik,” is something I want to admit to my best friend. I have an inkling that she knows I play tough. This whole facade that I’m fine. She knows better. She knows me, but it is so hard for me to admit to her that I’m upset. That I cry myself to sleep. That I feel so fucking alone, even when I’m with her sometimes. I try so hard to be strong yet I feel so weak inside. I don’t admit to others that I’m going through difficult times. I don’t tell them what I want to happen for me in life. I tell them what they want to hear. It’s rough putting on a happy face, getting out of bed, trying to be what everyone wants me to be when I want something completely different.