While growing up I saw the world from another perspective; it was devoid of hate, troubles, and all I ever thought that made life uncomfortable.
I loved blindly because I thought everyone was like me; I forgive easily and they keep hurting me knowing I was naive and had no idea of how the world runs.
At some points I felt I will never grow up; I still believe in miracles, love, and good people; who will blame, I so much believed my fantasy world and at some parts of my heart, I feel it exists.
I was innocent and naive at the same time; I let them trample on my self-respect, and each time I talked about it, I have tagged a needy and handful person.
When I was fed up and wanted to walk away: they begged me to stay back. I was reminded no one will agree to be friends with me because they all find my nice attitude weird and I’m different.
I still saw good in them no matter how they treated me; they bashed my car after a frat party and I didn’t make a fuss about it, they used my stuff without permission because we all share the same room.
The list goes on and on and I still had hope that they will change for the better; they are the only ones that ever stuck with me for months; all the friends I ever had always runoff in the first week.
I got fed up being at the receiving end of their tantrums; I noticed that a leopard never changes its spots. It was easier for the world to come to an end than expecting my friends to change and treat me better.
I changed my hostel for the better; I still believed they were good people, but not for me.