You're disappointed in me.
This isn't who I am, you say.
You don't hate me, you hate what I've become.
Well, I guess you didn't know me as well as you thought,
and I hate to be the one to break it to you,
but I didn't change myself for them.
This is who I am, who I've always been.
This is me, pure and truthful.
This is me, not hiding behind some happy-go-lucky facade.
This is me, feeling sorry for myself that you weren't a true enough friend to realize that.
So I guess you're mad that I left you,
I guess you're sad that I'm too busy "trying to fit in with the crowd" to be your friend.
(Even though I'm not.)
But I'm happier than I ever was with you as my best friend,
I'm happier without you.