I've had so many people tell me in this life time that they never really understood the kind of person I am. I'm as open as a book, and as closed as a closet. I'm there, yet, I'm not. You can't ignore me, but you sense the lack of my existance.

People can trust me with their deepest secrets and troubles, yet at the same time, they're hesitant to approach me. My silence has always been considered a weakness in times when individuals feel that I need to speak up and defend myself. What yet seems to surprise me is the fact that, even after 23 years of living this fancinating life, haven't people really known the kind of person I am?

I'm called and chattered upto whenever I'm needed. And there are times, where I feel like I've been existing in a world that's really not my own. The people around me aren't my own. I love yet at the same time, hate them as well. The reason for both these emotions is a mystery to me as well. Till this date, I've still not been able to figure it out.

What exactly do I want from life? What is it that people want from me? I want to be around the people I love and care about, but something in me always keeps saying that their feelings for me aren't real. I'm not pitying myself, but why is there this want of mine to get away from everyone I know? Why do I feel that I need to be alone and live life on my own conditions and terms? Its not like i'm restricted in a lot of ways at the moment.

Why is it that I like sunsets? The drowing of powerful body such as a sun, always makes me feel as though thats a reinterpretation of my relationships with the people around me. They die and live as each day passes by. They're beautiful, but somehow always manage to create a sadness around them.

As big as a mystery people may consider me to be...there's something that even I've never been able to understand myself. That one thing is....me.