I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.
This is what I think about a lot. Like I’m a character of my own design and different versions come out to play depending on who I’m with but I don’t think the real one comes out even when I’m on my own. I lost sight of who that person is a long time ago.