the weight of being seen

I'm known as someone who performs a lot at school. People know my name, and I guess you could say I'm popular. It's a privilege, but sometimes it feels more like a curse. High school changed me. The more people recognize you, the more careful you have to be. One mistake becomes everyone's story, and one rumor can make people believe they know you. I've learned to be careful with who I let in, but somehow I always end up feeling alone anyway. I'm always the one people run to when they need advice. I listen, I stay, and I carry pieces of everyone else's problems. But when it's my turn to speak, I swallow everything because I'm afraid of looking dramatic or becoming "too much." It's strange how the person everyone leans on is often the one with no one to lean on. I have friends, but sometimes I wonder if anyone would notice if I stopped pretending I was okay. I don't need people to fix my problems, I just wish someone would ask how I'm doing and actually wait for the real answer. Maybe one day I'll find people who stay when there's nothing impressive left to see. Until then, I'll keep smiling, because that's the version of me everyone seems to prefer.