From the perspective of a kid who likes being trusted, but has a twist...

I… have a problem,

I can keep a secret.

People tell me things that they really shouldn't.

Personal things that I have no business knowing about, and the thing is…

I like it.

I like knowing stuff and not being able to tell anybody.

I like knowing people's darker side, the side that no one else wants to know.

I like being their shoulder to cry on, when nobody else will.

What I don't like is,

Not being able to fix their pain,

Or only being able to watch from the sidelines,

Or wanting to help but having them push me away…

Pushing me away…

That is the thing I hate the most.

If you let me in, I will help you in any way that I can,

But it will hurt me if you decide you suddenly don’t want my help,

Or try to block me and act like none of this ever happened.

Like I was never there for you when you needed it,

Like I didn’t give you my arms, legs, and spine when you asked for a helping hand,

Like I am suddenly just a stranger to you,

Just another student that you nod to in the hallway,

A lonely face that you recognize only as the kid you had English with.

And that’s what I am,

Just a lonely face.

Because as much as I hate being pushed out,

The real problem with always caring for others, is that nobody ever thinks that you need caring for.

I want to fix others because I can’t fix the pain I call my own.

I have no shoulders to cry on except the ones my head sits on,

I have no one to care for me when I need it.

You see, that’s the problem with being able to keep a secret,

You’re too scared to share your own; that’s why…

I… have a problem,

I can keep a secret.

The End

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