They Hate Me Because They Don't Know Me

Some people hate me because they think I try too hard, or that I'm fake. Some people hate me because they think I'm shy or I act. They think I am hateworthy because they don't know me and it is impossible to get to know me because I didn't know myself. People think that I am no one. Just this asian, chinese girl who is conservative. Who doesn't know what to do. Who thinks I am so weak for not speaking in class or for looking at people a certain way. They hate me because I don't know who I am. Because I am awkward in front of them. They hate me because I live in my own mind and I keep to myself instead of being a part of the group. They hate me because I don't know what to say. I don't know how to act. People hate me because I am scatter-brained. I make them feel uncomfortable and they don't know how to handle me. They think I'm desperate. People hate looking at me. They hate seeing me down the street. They hate when I talk because I am always controlling. They hate me because they always sense that I'm looking for something in them that they aren't willing to give or they don't have. They hate me because they think I'm ruthless, a loner, a person who doesn't need help at all. They hate me because I can be random and stupid but act smart at the same time. They hate me because I am foreign to them. They can't tell what my problem is and they don't want to know what it is or touch it at all. People hate me because they think I have everything in order. That I get things my way. That I go at something while using people and stepping on toes. They hate me for trying to be nice. They hate me for being silent. They hate me for being a nuance and a deranged person. They hate me for acting like I know or acting like I don't know and acting like a victim. They hate me for my personality. They hate that I get answers from them. They hate me for not knowing how to be normal. Not knowing how to approach someone and carry a conversation. They hate me because my face is blank. Because I am a hypocrite. Because I say one thing and act another. They hate me because I'm always changing. Always unpredictable. Always different every day. People hate me because they think I think I'm better than them. They hate me for not putting enough effort into my work. They hate me because I don't live up to what I say I am. They hate me because I manipulate them. People hate me because they think I'm perverted. They think I'm unworthy to talk to. They think I'm nothing, no one, with no substance. They think I'm a floater. They think I have no feelings. They don't think I'm human at all. They see me as someone out to get them. They don't like me at all. They hate me because they don't feel safe around me. They think I can't communicate with them or talk because I act weird and I have all these walls and barriers and guards up. How could they possibly know me or get to know me. Me who I don't even know who I am. Me who I thought I knew who then changed and thought it was permanent and then woke up and realized that I don't have anything and I don't remember anything but who I was when I was a kid who everyone hated. People hate without even saying those words. They hate by not talking at all. They hate by ignoring. They hate by seeing me as nothing. They hate for not looking at me as a human. They hate by assuming. They hate by thinking I'm not worth their time. They hate by looking at me and saying with their eyes that I'm different and that I'm an alien to them and that I deserve to die, go to hell for taking up room, taking up their time and energy. They hate by brushing me aside. They hate by treating me like dirt. They hate by thinking that I'm dumb. That I can't tell that they think I'm worthless or don't know any better. They think I can't feel. They think I have no emotions or heart or passion or soul or something worthy for them to consume. They hate me for knowing too much. For seeming like I am perfect and that I have a perfect life. They hate me for appearing happy all the time. They hate me because they think they can't get to me. They think I'm impenetrable. They think that I am a stone wall. They think that I can handle my own problems and then when I need help I can come to them or not at all. They hate me because I don't get help. Because I don't know how to ask for it. They hate me because I am radical. Because I am volatile. Because I am impulsive. Because I criticize. Because I judge. Because I assume. Because I hate them. Because I oppress them. They hate me because they don't know me. They don't know that I am a sister. I am fun to be around. They don't know that I can really open up to them. They don't know that I can be so open. They don't know that I can be compassionate. They don't know that I can be understanding. They don't know that I am a believer. They don't know that as a believer, I will never be able to feel at home on Earth. They don't know me because I am supposed to be alien to this world. They don't know me because my deepest and darkest secrets are between God and I and me and myself. They don't know me because they themselves are afraid and they themselves want to protect themselves from harm or hurt and they don't want to be bruised or used or tossed or confused. They hate me because I don't know. They hate me because I don't know them. They hate me because I don't know. They hate me because I am. They hate me because they think I am. They hate me because they think at all. They hate me. I can tell when they treat me like I don't know. That's the worst feeling. I'm supposed to hate you. And I do hate you. But I'll choose to love you anyways. And you'll hate me for that too.