A Peek Inside

It seems, as I grow older and older, that nobody truly knows me. So why does everyone claim to? 

People love to know you "best". It's a competition. A fight to the death. 

"She's not really like that! Her behavior when she was 12 proves it!" 

One can never truly change, can they? They must remain the same person they were when they were little. As if us humans aren't capable of altering our personalities to become better. We're stagnant. Waveless. Motionless. 

I'd like people to realize that I am different. I'm no longer in elementary school, or middle school, or high school. I'm not even the person I was yesterday. How can I be when my brain isn't even finished developing? 

I am told a lot that I am known. That all my pages have been read and that I have "nothing to hide". As if my book ends here, that nothing else can be written. That would be quite sad if that were indeed true. 

I'm not allowing people to rip out the pages I've written. And I'm not going to lend them my book if that's their plan. Never again.