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.