You don't know what it's like to be me, and you don't try to understand. It's easy for you to trust me because you don't think the way I do, you weren't cheated on as many times as I was, and you don't care about anything that doesn't involve yourself. You didn't have to grow up as the outcast: in school, at home, in life. You didn't have to walk the halls overweight and alone, you don't have the pressure of hormones, and the only things you know about my life are what I choose to tell you. You didn't have to sit there and watch everyone else lead a better life than you, you didn't have a sister that upstaged you in everything and made you look like a fool and a freak to everyone you met. You didn't have to cry yourself to sleep at night because you felt completely alone and the only person tht understood you was a cat or a dog. You didn't blast your radio to music to escape your issues. You didn't lose everything: your family, your favorite belongings and your home, all in one setting. You didn't have a mother who decided it was time to be selfish and live her own life when you were 14. You didn't have to go to your father's wife for personal issues or worry that the same woman you trusted was spying on you and turning things against you. You never had to worry about giving your heart just to watch it be broken and stomped on over and over and over again because you were too timid to do anything about it. You've never had an emotional breakdown over something others find silly because they don't understand how much something meant to you or why it affected you. You've never had to beg and pray for attention to give yourself a reason to go to bed at night or a reason to wake up the next morning. You've never felt worthless, useless and hopelessly lost. You've never been put in multiple situations that were so convienient, noone would believe what actually happened. You've never lived my life, seen the world through my eyes, or attempted to see a situation from my point of view......because.....what am I to you? Just another teenage mother? Just another sexually active teen? Just another jobless, graduate with no idea on whether or not she has a future? Just another girlfriend? Just another friend? Just another person in this world taking up space and natural resources? Am I just another face in the crowd you're looking at? Do I really have a purpose? Or am I just fooling myself and believing things that'll help me feel better about who I am?
I have a horrible sense of time and memory. I live in the ghetto with a broken family. Sometimes I feel the only person that does love me unconditionally is a little girl who's barely old enough to talk or walk. I spent most of my high school years trying to keep my family and friends than actually attempting to do well.I have many regrets, and at the same time I have none. I have many friends, none of which know what I really think or how I really feel. I'm an adult and a child. I have relatives, but I no longer have a family. I love him and hate him.
You've never read the journal of a girl who hates herself. You've never known me for me, and you probably never will. All you know is you're going to live you're life being you.
Sudoku Kitten · Wed Sep 10, 2008 @ 05:46am · 1 Comments |