Am I Real

I fake it for those around me. They shouldn't be bothered with my pain. I'm quiet. I'm compliant. I'm fake. How naive they must be to truly think me happy. Can't they see I'm barely living? Alone I feel nothing. With them, I feel only hatred. But they wouldn't understand. Would they even try? Do they care for me? The real me? When I'm unaltered by their forced cheer Who am I? Do I know when I'm really feeling? Or is it all a facade? Maybe I'm just numb. A vile creature void of emotion. Am I even real? Pure, unbridled joy. The one thing I can be sure of. Smiling. Laughing. Caring. Loving. With you. The one time I can be sure of the answer. Am I real? Yes.