Face of Mask

I wish you'd seen me from the start. I wish you'd wanted me from the beginning. I wish you'd given me that assurance. Maybe that I would know you're the one. Maybe then I wouldn't be so messed up trying to figure out how someone would know that another person is their special person in this world of faces.
And among all the people that have come and gone, you seem to stand out. Not that the promises are different. I'm just silly enough to believe yours. To believe that you're not one of my beloved 'friends' who come and go. Seasonal, really. They can all just go away for good, really. That wouldn't be the worst thing. At least my social life, if I ever had one, wouldn't have to be based on lies.

But you're you, and I'm just me. We're worlds apart. I live in a world where people use me, and I so generously let them because somewhere deep inside this warped mind of mine, I feel like this is the only way I can get people to like me. To accept me. To call me out to do normal people things. But where are the faces that I recognize.
Silly me, I know. But people can really disappoint sometimes. I'm fresh out of masks and the ones I have left are slowly slipping. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend to be nice to the people who are pretending to be nice to me. Suddenly I'm an angry, sad, little girl all over again. But that's fine, because nobody has to see. Oh look.. A new mask.