I'm real.

You told me you didn't know my name. And again I was afraid of fading into the smoke.

You compared me to Miley Cyrus. I didn't know if you meant my hair or that I was trying too hard to break away from my Disney reputation. The reputation that everyone had glued in the back of their minds and they're now second guessing after watching the VMA's performance over and over.. I still don't know how to twerk.

Sometimes I feel like a celebrity, and that makes me afraid. Because everyone knows celebrity gossip, but how well does everyone know the celebrity? Because celebrities have a lot of fans and a lot of not-so-fans. Because celebrities have a lot of followers on Twitter, but how many of them can they call up on the weekends when their heart breaks? Because people talk about celebrities like they're a different breed. Because people say childhood stars fuck themselves over. Because celebrities can count on their hands the amount of real friends they have just like anybody else.

There's that word again. Real.

I didn't make up random shit so that you could pity me. I did shave my head. Friend me on Facebook for the pictures. I did go to rehab. That would be a hell of a lie to keep up BTdubs. I do have an eating disorder. A mood disorder. I am suicidal. I did attempt last March. And I did say the "f word" in class today because I was pissed at that kid's comment. (I'm sorry about that Nelson. I'll try to keep it classy next time).

But I'm scared I'm too real. I'm scared the kid that posts about being schizo isn't. I'm scared the kid that posts about his girlfriend is single. I'm scared that the girl who heard me read my second poem at Muse thinks I was making a joke about rehab just for more attention. I was scared when I admitted I had an eating disorder in front of the whole class, and I was scared when I told you my fear food. Sauces. I'm sorry I was never good at fitting in.

Let me introduce the real me, who you've been dying to meet all along, but you weren't looking hard enough in the brands of the clothes I wore. In who I talked to in the hallways. In the way you said my name.
I'm scared of equality. I won't know what else is worth protesting in the streets. I'm scared it won't live up to society's expectations.
Who's afraid of dying too early? Dying too late? Who's afraid of living past their prime?
I'm afraid. I'm afraid of contradictions and double thinking.
What if my beliefs are wrong? My beliefs are right? The Mormons are right? (Please don't come knocking on my door).
I'm afraid.
I'm tired of getting the answers to the questions I was too scared to ask out loud.
I'm afraid of happiness because depression is getting so damn comfortable in bed with me.
That no one believes my truths and everyone believes my lies.
I'm afraid of oblivion. Of inadequacy. Of incompetence. Of failure. Of the judgment that naturally follows.
Of being Alice lost in Wonderland.

I'm afraid of disappointing my parents.

I'm afraid of you. Because you, yes, you, are capable of anything, darling. And that includes breaking my heart in three easy steps. You always told me I was too weak and I was too vulnerable, but you never told me I was the China doll fragile or the first kiss naive. I was trying to be the Hulk for you, but my strength gave out when I ran out of passion.

I'm afraid of contact sports because my mom told me not to talk to strangers, let alone get cozy with them.
I'm afraid of lackluster sex after Hollywood showed me how to make love.
I'm afraid the Superbowl is a bitch in person, but she's real nice on the telly.
I'm afraid of bikini shopping with you after your last girlfriend was a model.
I'm afraid I'm just another one of his exes. Just another student that graduated Lone Peak. Just another Broncos fan.
I'm afraid of Love and I'm afraid of Hate. I'm afraid I'm dating both of them.
I'm afraid you're not reading this. I'm afraid you're reading this. Tell me what you're thinking.
I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid.

Don't tell me you don't care what people think. Is that why you wore makeup even when your friend was dying?

Today I was finally brave enough to walk down the hall without my eyes glued to my cell phone. I'm finally brave enough to look up.

Because I'm just so tired. Tired of being afraid.