I was born to be the second. I will never understand how it feels to be the first, or to be the only one, or to be the last. I will never understand the specialties of each position. I have no name to be called. And when they were so happy with that, I found my own way. I entertained my own self, and it did not satisfy them.
There are so many conversations stuck in my head. I remember them, spoken so long ago. About me who can't think of anyone else but myself, who can't be as good as others. I almost cried to hear that they thought I always pissed people off. And it annoyed them so much that I always have different thoughts. When he said I did such a good job, it did not help. I couldn't change their opinion about me. I will always be the worst.
Yes, I am the overachiever. I am the prettiest. I am the luckiest. I am the most outstanding, the most brilliant, the masterpiece if I was a painting. What a pity, whatever I say to cheer me up, does it change anything? No. I'm still the one who don't have name. They say I'm such a dreamer, I confuse them with my dreams while they are busy worrying about why she can't get good scores, or why he always comes home late, or simply why she goes home really often.
They want me to think about others, have they ever thought about me? About what I feel to be invisible? Laugh at me and I won't cry. Because I will always be the stone-hearted one.