I dread the idea of people preferring your company to mine.

The idea that presented with the choice,

My friends would choose you over me.

I hate how situations like this expose my flaws,

Those defects of character I’d prefer to hide,

Or cover up, blend in, with concealer.

I hate that this is way I think.

That when presented with these situations

My mind goes to the dark,

Without ever considering the light.

I’m sorry.

But now that you know…

Will you judge me for this?

Considered less than because of my brokenness?

Will you leave me for this?

What does this say about me?

I suppose, it says I’m insecure.