In This Flawed Little Story

Not everyone will like me, I get that. I'm quite certain there are few souls here and there who feel a tinge of animosity towards me because of something I did or did not do. Somehow, this doesn't bother me. Not because I'm too full of myself to care, I just don't have the need for constant approval and I accept the fact that I can't please everyone. And I'm fine with that.

But lately, I find myself worrying about some possible future changes. Silly really, because there's not much that I can do but just be myself, however I still can't stop myself from pondering on how I have been painted. And for the first time in my life, the idea that I'm being perceived in a distasteful way concerns me more that I will care to admit..

It baffles me, I don't understand myself. I should be more anxious about what I'm going to see rather than how I'm being seen. I know where I stand after all. But this does very little to console me. It's the fact that I have no control over my character in this story that hurts me. The fact that I didn't get to pick the role that I want to play causes me some kind of distress. In this flawed little story, I am who I am not, and I am not who I am.