Me.

I am the nice guy at work, the one who always does a good job, and you always notice, but never really talk to. You see me around town a lot; at shops and fares, though we never talk because either you're like the rest and have a crush on me, or you can't remember my way too common name. Perhaps you've met me before, in out working environment, but not more than a day, and we never talked during that time. 

To my acquaintances, I am the guy who everyone talks to, which means my lips are sealed to all of the annoying T.M.I. confabs and unwanted gossip I know enough of to tank you like a submarine. Aside, I'll always go to lunch with you, or take the time to listen, because I have a big enough heart to adopt the two shelter dogs who I always show pictures of every chance. Honestly, though, you ask me for relationship advice, when you know I demand to stay single, and have no idea what to say, despite the fact it somehow helps you. My past is dodgy, my parents estranges, my religion only of the insecure. 

Music, life, love and passions all revolve around the creative, goth introvert side, and I can also cook, too, when I do have you over in small groups because I don't handle crowds too well. Every band you've never heard of is my release, my escape, because I'm asexual and don't give a care in the world about sex. Forgive me for not talking a lot but making eye contact too much; I'm just trying to read you like a book, so I can help revise you to be a best seller. 

Don't forget, I'm also the guy who does know heartbreak... I just keep it a secret, like everything else that's ever hurt me. All of my life lessons, pains, and issues are contained in a little bottle deep inside of me, along with one outside, that you saw once but I hid, and you read when I went to the bathroom.

Lithium.

You searched it online and found that my darkest secret is that I can't control my mind, or mood swings, and that the reason I don't talk much, or have huge, constantly watery eyes, is because I'm sad all the time. 

After that, you can't look at me the same way again.

And you never will, especially when we have a talk about it, and I tell you that through all your life and the rest of our friends - from your wedding, the divorce, that funeral we went to, the parks, the lunches, to dinner parties, the night we got drunk by accident - I'd tried suicide six times and nearly died twice because I have no idea whether or not I'm sane anymore, even though you know I'm completely normal to you. 

This is me.

I am strong. I am brave. 

And I am (not?) afraid.