An Answer

They were all sitting there, with their eyes fixed on me, waiting for me to speak. They had asked a question, and they were waiting for an answer. And I did. I gave them an answer. Not an honest answer, but the kind of answer they wanted to hear. They were happy with my story.
But, why had I done it? Why had I said something like that to call their attention?
Why can't I just say who I am without feeling embarassed of myself?
Why can't I like me for who I am? Why do I have to lie?

They got the answer that they wanted.
I didn't. I just got more questions that I can't answer.