The moment I realized I hated who I was, I was lying alone on a couch,
in an unfamiliar room, in an
unfamiliar house. The two girls and the boy
had gone to get something to eat in the next room. I lay
there feeling
cold, feeling the absence of his body next to mine, feeling more alone
than I had.
Thinking to myself "who am I?" As tears went down my face
and I stared at that white door with the
gold handle and the half moon
shaped window with clouded glass. Staring at the ceiling silently
praying and begging for help. I can still remember staring at that door.
Realizing if I walked out, the
wrong people would follow me. Or they
wouldn't come at all. I was too alone. Earlier as I sat on the
opposite
side of the couch, next to the boy, the two girls facing us got up and
went into the next room.
I don't remember him asking but I do remember
myself crawling to him, wanting for one moment to
feel like I belonged
somewhere. To feel safe. His words still ring in my ears "someone's
eager" as I
giggled thinking he would believe I was cute. Only later to
be left crying on the couch, wondering
why I let myself down. The boy
would send me his pointless texts and I would respond the way I
thought
he would like. The moment I left for a few days I realized I was
replaced. I was alone. I was
a mess. I was so lost because for once in
my life I felt abandoned, abandoned by my best friend,
abandoned by the
nameless boy, abandoned by my actual self, not realizing that my family
was only a
step away. I can still remember the moment I wished I had
done something different with the people I
met, how I treated them, and
how I expected to be treated as a result. I remember the day I saw a
little
bit of light, something the slightest bit good, and I grabbed it,
and I held onto it, and I watched it
grow, and I watched myself grow,
and I noticed that I wasn't so alone anymore.
