Now is one of those times.

I tell myself that I have run out of tears. This, I add, happened years ago. But sometimes, when I am surrounded by nothing but the shattered remains of my protection, waiting to be remade into walls of safety, a few tears begin to trickle down my cheeks. This is followed by laughter. Then, inner peace. 

Which lasts a long time, but is undone soon. 

They say we learn from our falls. Well, one thing goes without saying: It hurts. The pain might be alleviated with time, but the memory takes longer to fade away. 

While boys my age are busy living normal lives, I'm stuck with the biggest problem in the world. It's like I've been cursed. There are times when I wish I had made friends and had not gone outside for my midnight strolls like a lunatic. My stupid poetry is still the same. No amount of my time outside in the night did anything to improve it. It has matured. A little. Which it also would've even if I had stayed home. 

All it took for this misery to unfold on me was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. All it took was for the wrong person to see me, then report the obviously suspicious looking activity to others. 

But the scandal has more to it.

These people are bullies. What they're doing to me is bullying. I fight them everyday. Not physically, of course, but mentally. 

Am I good at it? I get better at it with each passing day. But I do have weaknesses.

Is there anybody out there like me or am I the only one?