“You know, being invisible is quite fun.”
“...Pardon?”
“The feeling of you walking alone in the midst of a crowd, – friends conversing and laughing at each other, couples teasing and blushing red – nowhere near chaos. It was almost serene. No one seems to care the way you matched a lousy sweater with jeans, the way you drag your feet on the floor or even the way your pimples stand out on your bare face.”
“W-what are y –?”
“But yet, being invisible means getting unnoticed. And getting unnoticed sucks.”
“...You’re making me uneasy.”
“I’m aware. It’s not the kind of uneasiness that makes your hair stand still. It’s also not the kind of feeling that somehow predicts your daily fourth strikes of bad luck. But rather it’s the one that grasps your innards so hard that it’s suffocating for you to even breathe.”
“..Shut up.”
“That’s loneliness. The underlying feeling that has been waking you up all night. Being invisible means you’re risking yourself to be lonely; to only be known to everyone when one mentions a very annoying description to your name; to be cut in half-sentences even when it was your turn to speak.”
“S-stop –”
“I have been wondering why you’re living your life like that. But it seems like you're just afraid. Afraid of being pushed away, of being rejected in circles. So you isolate yourself, creating a safe bubble in the middle of everybody else but you, so you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“…”
“I guess I’m right then.”
“Just…just, who are you?”
“...Fairly speaking, I’m...actually not that much of a big deal. In fact, I’m just a small, insignificant part of you. You thought you would need to live with me forever, but really...you don’t have to. You have all the control in this world to change that – you can hold onto my words this one time.
So just, deal with it okay? Deal with me.
Deal with this anxiety.”
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