When I woke up today I felt sick. I always feel sick but this day was worse. It might have something to do with yesterday, at least that is what I told my mom.
But I am starting to wonder if I’m not just imagining all my sicknesses because of how I feel inside. And how do I feel inside? Not good at all.
But I never tell anyone, because I really don’t want them to know. They live their own lives, pretty happy about it too. So what right to I have o make them feel like they need to help me and haven’t helped enough?
Because I survive, I always do. I really don’t need them hovering over me, saying that I need to talk to someone who know what I’m feeling. Instead I bottle my feeling inside of me and after a while they just disappear into space.
I think.
When I look back at my life, the whole fifteen years of it, I see a happy girl with little troubles. I’ve had friends, a family that loved me and fun.
But that’s not how I think of my life. Funny, huh? Because I shold have had all those things, everybody thinks I’ve had those things. But have I really?
My friends. Sure I’ve had friends, but I don’t have that many now. I have those who I would say ‘hi’ to if I met them in the supermarket and those I spend time with everyday at school but practically never outside of it.
I have friends I have been so close with but somehow we drifted apart. We have found each other again though. Thank god.
I have people I no longer can bear to look at, remembering all the dun we had and all the backstabbing that followed.
Then I have friends, one friend really, who I used to be best friends with and now… We no longer speak at all. It’s sad, we used to be so close and now I can even listen to her for five minutes without feel like barfing. She’s so different.
I have another friend like her, but I still love this one. We met when I moved here and the second week, when that other friend I just told you about had left, we were inseparably. But then she changed, and I was left in the shadow.
My best friend no longer lives here. She moved away and I miss her so. But we still meet even though it’s quite long between the seeings.
Sometimes when I lie in bed I dream. I dream about a perfect life, a life where I am happy and can be free. Somewhere I can find true love and live happy ever after.
Then it’s morning and the dreams are gone. All that’s left is me.
And my life.
