It's odd.

It's off, as usual.

I feel left out at my own party.

It's not their fault. Everything was fine. They sang me the birthday song. My cake? Delicious, hella good. The presents are amazing indeed—made me sob eventually.

They tried.

So it's gotta be me. The blame is on me.

Why can't I say something? Anything. Why can't I be more emotional? I can't even say thank you. "It's great," I said. 

And all went silent. Their eyes all stared at me, waiting for me to say something. I know they put part of their heart into this. 

I just can't fit in.

And I lied. "Hey, let's leave me alone and enjoy the meal. Really, I've always been silent like this. If you come to my house for lunch, then the only noise you could ever hear would be from a TV host on the VTV show."

Well, the "lunch time" part is true. My family barely talk. 

But I lied.

 I could be very loud.

 I could be very annoying.

 I could be more than this.

 Just not here. Not with you. Yet. 

And I know it would make you sad. And I like you, i really do. 

So I'm scared of that i make you blue. 

So I lied. 

No harm. 

White lie.