I'll become better. I'll try.

03.

They say I'm kind.

It's a short compliment, enough to give me reassurance that I have a little light in me.

They say I'm kind with a teasing voice and a warm smile. It made me feel accepted. It made me feel good.

A part of me is likeable, is what I'd always think.

I spent most of my life with eyes trained on the ground as the fear of meeting another's eyes grow by the day.

The eyes are windows to the soul, after all.

What if mine revealed an ugly soul? What if the me reflected in their eyes was someone I dislike?

At least they say I'm kind and it's a relief to know that. But only a momentary relief.

Many times in a day where I either sit in a daze or busy myself with things to do, past mistakes would haunt me.

As I lie awake at night, I could recall the humiliating things I've done and the cruel choices I've made.

Over and over again they'd replay like a film. The ghost of those moments whispering to me what I've done.

One particular decision I made left me breathless with guilt as I continue to wonder how my senior year could've gone better if only I made the right choice. That year in particular was a year that made me think of myself as distasteful.

It could've gone better if only I said otherwise. It could've gone better if only I was less cowardly and told the truth. It could've gone better if only I was as realistic back then as I am now.

I wouldn't have wasted other's time and emotions.

What's worse is the people involved who I know I've hurt but they still call me kind.

Thinking about it now, I find it hard to tell anyone that I preferred if that year went another way. Other than the fact that maybe it's not that big of a deal or that I know the me I'll see in their eyes will grow darker.

Maybe they'll laugh it off and call me silly and melodramatic. Maybe they'll see that I'm not kind afterall.

I told you so, they'd say.

Why did you even do that? They'd ask.

You only realised it now? They'd utter with a frown.

They say I'm kind.

...

Wait.

Did they?

Did anyone ever tell me I'm kind? Or did I just say those words to myself?

Have I been whispering those words to myself, desperate for that momentary relief?

Why is it that I can't seem to associate myself with that word? Is that kind me only a mask?

...

I never deserved it then.

I try to tell myself to do better, to think better, to act better. I've been given a chance to be someone new.

Still, I lie awake again, haunted by another ghost who whispered, You were never kind.

You could've done better.

...

I know.

I could've done better.