Seven years ago when my parents decided to divorce, a lot of secrets have been revealed since then.

That's when I started to live in denial. I left the house and only came back to attend my dad's funeral.

I lived in luxury despite my background. I don't care. As long as people don't look down at me. I really don't care.

But I feel insecure. I've always been.

Whenever I need someone to lean on, I push them far away.

I don't want them to know that I'm actually nothing but a broken piece who tried to look strong and great.

I don't want them to know that I'm actually living a lie.

I can't get them too close to me. At least not this certain guy.

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