You want to know the truth about me? I’m tired of being different. I hate having to explain myself. I hate that I am so different, I can’t find joy in the simplistic things those around me indulge in. Is it weird to have self respect for myself or my body? Is it wrong to gawk at some random woman and believe she deserves better than our sorry attempts? I don’t know about this world anymore or the people that populate it. I can’t have an opinion or talk in high regard about someone who was once my world without someone being offended. Instead of being offended, perhaps they should understand the loss I’ve suffered. Understand what it’s like to doubt every action. Understand what it’s like to become disfigured and be truly alone. Understand what it takes for a person to stand up and try to change all of that on their own. To push forward and do more with their lives and break new barriers. To stand up and walk when everything within you tells you to quit and give in to the insufferable pain. Maybe it is my curse to forever be misunderstood. To be a man that wants to matter and mean something more in a world where non of that matters.