"Why is she so happy all the time?" People would wonder.

     They'd watch from afar as the young girl laughed with her small group of friends, still smiling when she stopped. She wasn't very popular in school, but she was still well known. The saddest people would crack a smile as she swung an arm around them and acted as if they were best friends. The angriest people would get rid of their smile as she told a cheesy joke, then laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. Even people who envied her would forget their jealousy as she sung a song in a high-pitched voice, making the whole class laugh.

     Her life, was perfect.

     When she arrived at home she would smile the brightest, greeting her mother and her siblings who got home before her. She would tell them about her day and ask how theirs went as she grabbed a snack from the fruit bowl. She'd giggle at her brother's exaggerated sighs and laugh at her sister's complaints about university, though she would comfort both of them at their worst. She would sprint to the door when her father arrived home from work, kissing him on the cheek as he stepped through the door. She could spend hours in her parents arms when they watched a family movie, snuggling under the blanket when she got sleepy.

     Her life, was perfect.

     And then there were the hours spent on Wattpad, reading and talking with her online friends. She could spend days writing books she knew she would never finish, or chat with friends she wish she could meet in person, positive they would be the best of friends. She'd lay on her bed with her phone in her hand, slapping a hand over her louth when she came across something funny.

     Yet again, her life, was perfect.

     But as the mornings turned into afternoons, and the afternoons turned into nights, she would lay there, staring at the ceiling, no emotion on her usually smiling face. She'd lay stiffly on her bed, her only thoughts memories of her friend's smiling faces, her family's crying eyes, her online friend's depressing chapters. Her only real joy in life was when she could wipe that convincing smile off her face. When she could let her own emotions flow free, not having to worry for anyone else's sadness. The moments when she felt she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders, the weight that only she felt she could carry.

     But eventually she would drift off to sleep, preparing herself for the never ending cycle that was her life. And as she wrote this, she thought about these nights. When there was mo twinkle in her eye. No smile on her face. No laughter in her throat. And although no tears were shed, and no emotions were shown, these were the moments when she felt free.

     So no, my life, isn't perfect.