As I was walking around lunch today, I realized something.
I am a part of many cliques.
I can go around to a lot of tables at lunch and pretty much blend in with everybody there.
The Sophomores. The Seniors. The “punks.” The “nerds.” The “oddballs.”
I’m a chameleon.
I guess this is kind of because I have at least a friend or two in each of these cliques.
I assume most people would read this as a good thing.
But I know better.
Each time I migrate groups, I put on a mask. A mask that will hide all the other sides of my life. I am a 30-sided dice.
My inward attitude remains the same throughout. My outward behavior changes. Lots.
Yet each group allows me to deal with my problems in a different way than the last.
Am I a jerk? Am I a nerd? Am I nice? Am I mean? Am I hated? Am I loved? Am I welcome?
Where do I belong?
I have best friends I can talk to about this, but they’re usually away, playing Call of Duty or watching House, and I don’t want to bother them.
But their absence definitely isn’t helping me any.