I was playing a role.
That was all I did.
It wasn’t me.
It was never me.
I didn’t want anyone to know the real me.
They couldn’t know who I was.
They wouldn’t accept me.
I knew they wouldn’t.
I had to play the role.
And I knew I could play it well.
I knew they would accept me as long as I played that role.
And after a while that role became me.
That was who I was.
But underneath I knew the real me was still there.
Hoping that I would one day release him.
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Categories: flash fiction