You were insecure, out of touch with loving yourself. As much as you tried to pretend you weren't your friend Rosa María could easily tell. She had grown more and more worried about you, as you just seemed to get more and more insecure. You bottled your feelings up, copied peoples personalities, even more then that. You'd been acting and seeming fine when you clearly weren't fine at all. She tried to talk to you about it, yet you'd shrugged it off and walked away. She hated this, watching you mess yourself up she was determined to help you one way or the other. Every time you'd been avoiding the conversation it added the fuel to the fire of her worry nothing would get you to talk about it. Watching you look more and more miserable was getting exhausting, yet she kept that to herself.

You were sat on the stairs of the cabin when a hand touched your shoulder. "hey.. may we talk? It's important." Rosa spoke with a determined look on her face, giving you a small worried smile. "Please." she added.