Weak?

Every single time he tries to open his mouth about how he actually feels about his life, he stops. He stops because he had been told one too many times that being emotional, being vocal about being emotional, being someone who just is sensitive, is just equal to being weak.

For a long time, he pretended he didn't get hurt by the things that did in fact hurt him. He pretended life was freaking amazing and he smiled from ear to ear like he was completely over the moon with joy. He was surrounded by people and that comforted him. Never did he even try to talk about sensitive subjects for he believed if he did that he would once again be termed weak. More than that, he was scared he'd be deserted. Something about being "weak" and being deserted by his "friends" scared the living life out of him. His pretence was strong for so long. One thing that did start getting piled up was his emotions.

While he pretended he didn't feel them and convinced he was in fact utterly blissful, there was one person he never could convince. It was himself. He always knew he was going explode like the dynamite he was. It was only a matter of when, never if. He also knew explosion would do nothing good either. It would create so much havoc that he wouldn't be able to take it and he knew that. 

And he did. He stopped pretending. People deserted him as quickly as he deserted them. He was left alone, but with a great friend within himself. In fact, he managed to find his best friend. He wasn't mean, he wasn't arrogant, he didn't compulsively reject people. It's always them who rejected him. And he was fine with that for he believed every single time he moves away from bad company, he inches slowly towards good company.