Hated.

"Just like me and her." I comment, turning back toward our conversation.

My friend laughs and shakes her head, bending down to retrieve something from her large bag.

"Yeah, we're like this." I cross my fingers, signaling our sarcastic closeness.

"She hates you, you know." My other friend pipes up, adjusting her dance bag on her shoulder and glancing down at her phone.

I giggle quietly, "Really?"

"Yeah. She doesn't say it much, but she does."

I laugh this time. Not caring that my laughter is louder than it should be on this quiet, tired evening.

"I like you as a person and I like her. But I just don't get it. What's up with you guys?" She continues, studying my face, looking over my shoulder at the other girl who just laughs again, still shaking her head.

This time I feign a sigh, and shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I don't know."

***

Apparently, I am hated. Have you ever been told you're hated? I have. Many, many times. But this time, when I was told, I laughed. I shook it off. I feel like I let the comment slip away. Usually I'd take that comment and let rest heavily on my shoulders. I'd let it mess with my life. I'd let it control me and define what I do. But I didn't this time.

Is it okay to be proud of that? That I didn't let it effect me? I've let too many things effect me lately. I feel like I've let words, emotions, people, even, control my life. What I say, what words I use. I shouldn't be so afraid. But is that really what I am? Afraid? Or am I just...scared? Scared to be my true self? Scared to do the right thing? Maybe being afraid and feeling scared are the same thing.

But I don't know.

I just don't know anymore.

am i hated? || let it go

thank you for reading.

xoxo,

Rose