Looking At Myself in Writing

               

 I had a dream last night that made me think, made me take a look at myself. I kept trying to run away, pulling my pants up and tripping while everybody laughed; everybody including the people closest to me. It’s a simple interpretation. I was running away from how I felt. I was exposed, vulnerable, and clumsy. Truth is, I do feel like running away. I do feel like people are laughing at my exposure, my vulnerability and my clumsiness. I’ve been so stuck on finding people to help crutch me and love me that I never really stopped to think about what I was doing.

People have left me because of who I am, before who I was. My biological father was the first of many people to detach himself from my path, my life’s long journey. My mother and him met young, conceiving me not long after they met. They’d been together for a while, and she thought he’d be the one to put a ring on her finger. When he found out she was pregnant, he didn’t like the idea of me, of loving me or taking care of me. And though now, seventeen years later our paths have intertwined again, he is now a part of my life as another adult. But since then, it has been a rough, jading road. I’ve lost many best friends in my time, moreover just friends. It was usually the ones that mattered most to me. I will never forget my diaper-hood friend named Amber. She and I have pictures together of us eating at my little blue kiddie table. (Pizza and juice) We had so many memories. She grew up and she wasn’t what I expected. She no longer talks to me; we grew a part because of the person she’s become. Nothing against her, it’s just we became two completely different people. We have two completely different lives, interests, morals, and experiences. Although we made it to our early teens before we split paths, I’m still happy I met her.

I was the IT-Girl in elementary school. I was the fastest runner, I was popular, I was pretty and skinny and I had all I wanted. I would race sixth graders when I was in first grade (and beat them), I would hang out with the people that everybody liked and because of my athletic abilities I was skinny and could eat anything and everything and not gain a single pound. (Now my little brother Travis is like that). Everyone wanted to be me or hang out with me. Everyone talked to me, waved to me, smiled at me; I was everything in elementary school. I was especially boy crazy in elementary school though so I had a lot of “boyfriends” back then. I remember walking around the school garden hand in hand, playing football with all the guys and always getting the touchdowns (because I was the fastest runner), and being the best at bar tag. I still go to school with most of the people from my elementary. As I transitioned into middle school, my flock of birds moved on to another crowd, leaving me behind. I met my best friend the first day of school. His name was Tyler. We had seven out of eight classes together. He and I had so many inside jokes and giggles. We eventually met up with another flock; him and I. One person included a girl named Korie-Anne. She and I had connected immediately (and we are still friends to this day). The three of us were like the Three Musketeers. We went everywhere together; the park, the library, my house. I’d found that Tyler had feelings for me eventually and I grew to like him but didn’t want to ruin the friendship so I didn’t go out with him. I’d gotten my heart broken by a guy or two before I finally settled down for Tyler and his open arms. He was my best friend and I loved him completely. He and I would have been perfect for each other. Everything we liked, we liked together. He was the reason I became so into Batman, and how I started to write my book. If it weren’t for him, my inspiration would never exist. (Or I’d just be discovering it now). Tyler was everything to me. I know I relied on him so much that when he left, I fell apart. He was like my crutch for my broken body. My parents were fighting, I couldn’t find out what was wrong with my stomach (3 out of 4 markers for Celiac Spruce), and I was having trouble finding an outlet for my anger. He got me through heartbreak, he made me laugh; he understood me entirely. We did absolutely everything together.

The last few days of seventh grade were more intimate; hugging and kissing. He’d walk me home, help me carry my belongings, he held my hand and told me he loved me. Now, I’d heard him say it before; and I know you’re thinking how young I was but anyone can love. I guess to me, this one was different. We started “dating” then and did through the summer. I’d sit in his lap, put his hand in my pocket, he’d let me wear his sweater too. I’d been taken to meet his family’s friends also. We were so close, best friends and in love. A couple weeks into eighth grade, he dumped me without a word as to why. So now, the one I loved, the only way I knew to live involved him and he was gone. He was more than a crutch for my metaphorically broken legs. He was the wings to my butterfly, the ketchup to my fries, and the trunk to my tree. He was my reason to breathe, and the beat to my heart.

I lost a part of my soul that day. I used to be good at singing. He encouraged me to sing and I got a gold medal for it. Since his end in my story, I haven’t sung for real. His departure struck something in me. Since he’d left, that group of friends left as well. This was when I’d met Kylie, the one I’d recently had problems with. She came with a whole new set of friends. Kylie and I met by some stupid singing hamster. “Everybody was Kung Fu fighting” but that’s a different story.

I’d been so content lately even with all the BS that’s been going on. The last couple days or so, I was struggling with being alone, with feeling like I’m all on my own. I know I’m not. I’m so fed up with feeling like I need to rely or lean on a guy or someone else in general to feel happy or to remain stable. Tyler leaving was just a sign, a way for a life lesson to teach me that I have to learn to be my own crutch, to rely on myself. I need to give myself wings and learn to fly on my own. Being alone doesn’t necessarily mean the end of the world and it’s hard to accept myself and myself alone. I struggle with it constantly. This is one reason why I’ve felt so hurt and heartbroken after every single time someone has left me behind or stopped talking to me. Now, someone I was good friends with (Christian) is no longer speaking to me and last year, he was a really good friend to me. I’m constantly reminded of memories just walking home from school. He used to walk me home, tease me, hug me, and make me laugh. I thought this was another chance. That’s where my problem was. I was so hurt by Tyler leaving that I’m so focused on finding someone else to take his place. So many memories haunt me now. Christian and I would stop at our friend Eddie’s house and look at his blue ‘stang. I remember constantly looking back and forth between him and the car. We would laugh and smile and joke around because of how much Eddie “loved”’ his car. I liked him last year and he liked me back. He asked me on a date, dinner and a movie. I’d rejected him because I was with another guy, even though I liked him back. I was always flirty with him though, letting him wrap his arm around me. This year was another story. We hadn’t talked much all summer, but I’d thought about him and constantly thought about texting him to hang out. I didn’t. We met up at a football game for my school one day and started to chat. I told him how I felt. Things lifted off from there, though not the way I wanted. We began to date and had a “movie scene moment” which makes me smile every time I think about it. It turns out I’d heard that he broke up with me because he didn’t want to hurt me. (Trust me, it makes no sense.) It ended up hurting me anyways…. And then he stopped talking to me, which obviously hurt even more. Then I left him alone for a bit, talked to him a couple weeks later to see if we could be friends again but he just kept walking past and ignored me. So now I guess it’s over between us.

                So I’ve been trying to figure out what is so wrong with me that guys line up to like and date me, then leave without a word as to why, only to never speak to me again. The saying that says if they leave then their part in my story has ended is too obviously painful to hear. The way they leave my story is so abrupt it’s like life is living by that saying. No one has ever come back though. Now, it hurts so much because I wanted Christian to replace what I lost in the first place. I ended up with nothing at all. I know, it sounds like desperation… I wish it wasn’t.
 Even though his laughter and his smile makes me happy every time I see it, and that I love the way I feel when I’m with him; it won’t make him come back to me. It may be hard for a while, but I’ll eventually get the hang of taking care of myself.

                Although I may have had a life safer and better than others, I’ve experienced and gone through more than enough to teach me how to keep my chin up, stand my ground in the pouring rain, and make my dreams come true no matter the distance between the stars. If you’ve got potatoes, make tater-tots. Don’t make lemonade because lemonade is sour and I want something that keeps me going, not makes me even thirstier.
Ian, You are my inspiration. (: