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You know, I like to think I'm at least a decent person, if nothing else.

I'm not good at much, I'm not really interested in much, I'm not one for social interaction except with a few select people, and I occasionally do crazy things.

Like smile all day long.

And I enjoy it.

The light, carefree feeling... I only wish I could smile like that everyday, like I did today.

Unfortunately, I know why I was smiling, and what's been stopping me from smiling.

I live in a dorm. I have a rommate. We've known eachother since 4th grade.

And back then...we were actually good friends. Best friends.

But over the years... We've grown apart. But we still stayed close.

Physically close, but mentally and emotionally distant.

I finally understood today why I was her only friend by the end of highschool.

I don't know what she's become... Somewhere... Sometime along all these years...

I know people grow and change. It's unavoidable. It's usually for the best.

But her... It's like she mutated into a monster. She was quiet and kind and shy way back when, and I was loud and talkative and playful.

I became quiet as I grew. It was hard on me... She was my only close friend, and even then, we barely spoke to eachother during schooltime. Most of our bonding was over the phone.

I'll never forget sitting with a group of kids on a grassy slope during P.E.

They were very loud, and I was being very quiet. Dring that time in my life, I had come to hate loud noise. They didn't realize that I was simply a quiet person (we were all just children afterall), and took me as being retarded.

I had been called that before, not only by classmates, by also by my older brother (just one of the many things he called me).

I guess it felt different then. They weren't whispering behind shielding palms, or turning from me.

They all stared straight at me and said it.

I guess that might have signalled another change. Then... I don't think I would have had the mental capacity to grasp it and compare it to something (I don't believe tha any normal 6th grader could).

You know how ostriches in cartoons bury their heads in the ground?

Imagine myself...my younger self doing that, thrusting my head, my emotions, my soul, into the ground, where I hoped nothing would hurt me.

But the ground became soaked with... I'm not sure if malice is the right word for it... It wasn't teasing. Somewhere in that magical grey area where child molestors and serial killers, adulterers and liars, all get off scott free, that area is where their insults came from. They soaked into the ground, weaving through the defenses I had thrust up around myself.

Until they found me, their words poisioning my eyes, buffering my ears, sewing my lips shut.

My nose?

I've always had allergy problems. I was probably so stuffed up that they couldn't do anything worse to my nose.

And in that state, I entered middle school.

I met other people, but because of my friend, I met mostly people that wouldn't accept me. Mostly because of what the infamous grapevine had produced.

I stood on my own, most of the time, with only books for my company.

As it always does, the rumor mill began to churn.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Her? She has no friends. She's really stupid. All she does is read."

People would actually come up to me to verify that I had no friends. When I said that I had friends, they always snickered behind their hands, and walked away.

I had alot of things stolen from me during middle school.

I remember one day, after school I had told my mother about someone stealing a book from me.

I remember what she said to me.

"Jessica, nice guys usually finish last."

I guess that clicked somewhere in my head.

Nice guys finish last. And all evidence up to that point in my life said that anyone who wasn't nice always got first place.

So then I formulated a philosophy that still follows me to this day.

Be nice to those who deserve the effort. ******** everyone else.

I think high school was some medicine that my sickened soul needed.

I was able to spearate from my friend, and make friends of my own.

Friends who respected me. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they understood me, but they accepted me as I was. I came out of my shell a little bit. Just a bit.

I was never endowed with the ability to adequately verbally communicate with others. When I was smaller, I would get nervous and stutter. Now, I hesitate to speak at all.

But back then... I had patient friends. They would calmly wait for me to explain. They wouldn't ignore me.

They appreciated my art, my voice, and my acting. They taught me what I could do, and to believe that I could do it.

Since I was a small thing, I've had a keen interest in art. I drew for enjoyment, to take my mind off what was going on around me.

I focused on the little details of my scribblings, and it drowned eveything out a bit.

My highschool art teacher was, and is, a blessing. She was very kind and nuturing, as were most of the friends I made in art. Unfortunately, due to my schedule, I could only take art my freshman and senior years. I studied independently inbetween.

Many things happened in those inbetween years.

The most notable of which still shakes me to this day.

The summer between my sophomore and junior year, my mother died. My best friend was out of town at the time. I remember it felt like everyone withdrew from me. My father and older brother sort of...sunk away.

And I was there, wallowing in memories.

I remember, not long after her death, I was sitting on the floor in my room. I was clutching a small musical teddy bear to my chest and crying.

Because it reminded me so much of her. I remembered little things... How she smiled, how she used to say "I love you to pieces, mieces,"... And I remember that I promised her that I would draw whales for her.

I never did while she walked the earth. I drew some for the the night befor eher funeral, and the drawing was buried with her.

From then on, I wore her wedding ring on a silver chain around my neck.

My junior year, I had my first real date. He was...different. He asked me how I was doing, he'd hug me, he'd tell me jokes...

But I think I know the one thing that really made me fall for him.

We were both in choir. One day, we had to go perform at the middle school campus, which is adjacent to the high school campus. We were to all walk over there.

I remember, I was coming out of the front of the main building and he was about 100 or so feet away, and he saw me. I started running to catch up... I didn't expect for him to stop.

He waited for me.

Even my best friend had never waited on me like that.

We went out a few times. We went to prom together.

But during that following summer, he sort of...vanished. He stopped calling me, and whenever I tried to get in touch with him, he was nowhere to be found.

In the spring of my senior year, he got married to someone. I was informed by another ex of his.

During the second half of my senior year, I had my first job. I worked part time for an old couple for sold textiles on the internet.

I'll never forget my boss, the wife. She was so kind to me. She made me laugh as well.

They treated me very well. They gave me snacks while I worked. They came to see plays that I was in, and brought me flowers (large orange lilies).

I worked for them through the summer, inbetween taking college courses.

During the summer, my best friend's wedding was nixed the day before the ceremony. I was to be her maid of honor.

The summer was tough emotionally, but nothing I daresay that I couldn't bear. Between work and school, I was busy. My friend had emotional fallouts that often led to long phonecalls.

In the latter part of the summer, she was...well, kicked out isn't the word and running away isn't either... She left her home by "mutal agreement".

Which here means that she walked out of the house because her parents suspected her of dubious acts (going out with her "ex-faiancee" and what not), and she didn't want to have to deal with it.

So she came to my home, where she stayed for a few weeks.

During those weeks, we shared many things. My bed, my bathroom, my cats, my parents, it seemed sometimes.

I had to share my world with her. And I didn't realize it then...

One day, she needed a ride to a college nearby. So I took her.

We were given a tour of the campus and a rundown on basic goings-ons. After a bit more research, I found the place to be to my liking.

So, we both attend here. We're roommates.

We're physically close, but mentally and emotionally distant.

And now I finally realize it.

Why my mother grew to dislike her. Why my brother continually attempts to convince me to get away from her.

She's destroying me.

All the things that I had to put up with when I was small... Bottled into one person, with extra bits added.

She insults me, she belittles me... All I do for her is taken not as something that I had the option to do and did out of kindness and respect...but because she "deserves it".

In her eyes, the way I see them, she sees her life, her experiences, as being above and beyond mine.

When my mother fell ill with what eventually played a large role in her death, we were in freshman art 1.

I was telling my art teacher about it.

"My mom's in the hospital. Her kidneys shut down. I hope she'll be alright eventually..."

And with all the attitude born of ignorance and uncaring, she has the gall to say to me, "Jessica, why are you worrying? I've had a kidney infection before an-"

And I snapped. "It's not kidney infection. Her kidneys SHUT DOWN. They don't work. There's nothing to be infected."

And I'll never forget that look in her eyes.

A glare that screamed, "How dare you speak to me like that!"

I can't tell her anything.

Not because she'll spread it everywhere.

She does worse.

She throws it back at me.

I, earlier in the semester, told her how I got a bit mixed up and took a wrong turn coming back from the grocery store.

To this day, she throws it in my face, with a superior look in her eye.

All I ever hear of is her drama with her boyfriend, the so called man that left her the day before her wedding.

I've taken to wearing my headphones and listening to blaring music whenever we're in the room for an extended period. The topic of conversation always leds to him.

I'll have my headphones and music on, and she'll just start talking and expect me to be able to hear her. And then she'll be upset that I put my headphones on while it was quiet and didn't psychically know that she was talking to me.

She spends most nights over at her boyfriend's apartment, which I'm thankful for.

When I talks to others and make a point (like the other night a guy asked me if I had taken a cloak, and I told him that all I took from his was a chair. He said, "Aha!" And I said, "You gave it to me!" And he was like, "Oh yeah." She came in and told me to stop being such a b***h about it.), she acts as if I've committed some sin that she must be the one to chatise me.

Oh, heaven forbid I play with people. Oooh noo, that's ground I must never tread. Only she is allowed that most sacred honor which I have repeatedly sullied with my unworthy hands.

Every minute I spend with her... I feel it eating away at me, turning me from who I am to...something soulless. I feel like she's destroying me, bit by bit.

I have to get away. I know I do.

The question is...do I run now, or do I duck out after the end of next semester?

She was considering applying to go to Korea for a summer study thing. To do that, she'd have to attend here next year. If she does that, I have to see that I either transfer to another school, or avoid her on campus here.

But if she transfers, I can stay here, like I want to, and not have to worry.

I don't see how I could get out of this right now though. I don't know what would happen.

Through some grace or some curse, she might read this. I don't know exactly what I'll do when it happens, if it does, I'll handle it.

But I won't be sticking my head into the sand anymore.

I want my life.... I want my soul... I want who I am back, dammit.

Wow...that was long. XD

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