I wish I could of been born differently. In a way people would of accepted me.
In all, I have never been secure. Not once have I felt beautiful. Not once have I felt accepted. I would be the one sitting in the corner, alone, crying quietly to myself as life goes on. There would be people asking if I'm okay. They don't notice the tears falling off my face as I choke on the lie everyone has told.
And I'm not. I am normal. I haven't been born with a disability, however, I feel like I may as well been. At least someone would be kind to me. At least then, I'd of held some importance, rather than just being another human on Earth.
Everyone around me calls themselves fat and ugly. I don't understand. I'm not fat, but I am a bit bigger than they are. I'm nt I don't feel like it matters. I face it. Reality. I'm not perfect. I'm a little fat, but I'm skinny. I have a good complexion in my opinion. However, I am tall. Very tall. Taller than many guys at school. I've heard it before.
"She's nice and all, but shes so tall no guy would want to be with her."
"She's so mean! Her height fits."
I hate hearing things people would never want to say to my face. They should tell it to me, and I can tell them what I think of them. I attract rumors. Many of them.
"She doesn't have any friends that are girls because she's a tranny."
"Her? You talk to her, she'll kick you so hard you'll wish you were never born."
Reality kicks in. If the covers not interesting, you won't take the effort to look inside. Whatever you hear about the book, affects if you want to read it or not. I'm a book on a cart, misplaced, trying to find my place in this world. Waiting for someone to maybe put me in that place, or have a peek at what's inside.
Yet such a thing does not exist.
My first day of junior high school was a living hell. No, my first week was. I already heard a rumor, that I wanted to become a guy, and thats how the tranny thing started.
The first day I stepped in the gymnasium with my friends, waiting to be called for my homeroom. I stepped up when my name was called. The first thing I noticed was everyone was shorter than me but two guys who I had the feeling might become acquaintances, and nothing more.
I wonder how many people have stood somewhere between two contradicting things that contradict yourself. One tall person in the middle, and two short people on each side.
That's not all. I was separated from the people who we're willing to get to know me, and from then on, we never talked.
I would fast walk to my classes, everyday, hoping no one would see my face. I would be one of the first ones in the class. I would set up my things, like my binder, textbook.. and I was quiet the rest of the class. Repeat.
There was even a time I cried because the power of one person turned the power of 8 years around, all in two days.
My best friend, who I had known for 8 long years, turned around because she met new people. I sucked in deep breathes each day when I looked at her at our locker. I'd stand alone, slowly placing my things away, or taking things as she chatted to everyone. She was the social butterfly, and maybe I was just a leaf, floating along. She became everything she hated.
A person who craved attention, and needed to talk every few seconds.
This, was the hell part. I realized who took the one I knew for so long. The one who seemingly hates me. And I was completely torn apart.
I had an exterior that I never tear down. It had my attitude of having something to say to everything, my willingness to fight, and my love of games. This is actually me. But inside there was more. No one even knows who I am. I don't, but I have a good idea.
I want to be hugged, and to be told that I have a role. I want someone to be able to be straight with me, and not tell me things that eventually point to it. I want to feel cute, and wear skirts and dresses. I'd love to go and sit down in a Barnes and Noble shop, take a book of the shelf, and read. I'd even just like to go to Starbucks and have a drink with someone.
I am so lonely. I have friends that care for me. But there's an emptiness that can't be filled. I'm missing someones love. It can't be filled because, I don't know if it exists for me in this world.
Maybe I should just run away. Maybe I should stop crying myself to sleep at night.
Numerous occasions I have prayed to wake up in the morning, because I want to know what life has in store for me. I just want to know what importance I hold to everyone.
Or maybe, I just want to know there will be someone who will be my light in the darkest times of my life.
- by transiti0n |
- Non Fiction
- | Submitted on 11/28/2010 |
- Title: Empty
- Artist: transiti0n
- Description: An essay, to get into a creative writing group. It has to prove I can be passionate, and dig deep into my own emotions.
- Date: 11/28/2010
- Tags: empty
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