I'm Not Who You Think

Chapter 7: Who am I?

Lately I've been asking myself,

"Who am I?"

I look at my scars,

My music taste,

But does this define who I am?

Because I don't eat,

Because I cut,

Because I constantly feel alone--

Does that make me less of a person than the others?

Than Sam?

Than Jake?

Why do these things define who I am?

Rather than the other things that go through my head.

I love the nature and animals,

I love school and music.

Why can't these be who I am?

***

I watch as my best friend,

And Jake grow even closer.

Every single day.

The way he looks at her doesn't seem forced anymore.

At lunch, they talk, and smile,

and they are so--

Happy.

Envious, even.

I want nothing more in life,

Than to have a moment of happiness.

For my happiness to be genuine, sincere.

Even if it wast just for a nanosecond.

I never replied to Jake's message,

And he never sent another one.

Every day is a little harder,

Because I am losing not one--

But both of my best friends.

At lunch they don't acknowledge me.

My mom is home and has been for a few days.

She's the only one afraid.

I'm sure someday I will go over the edge,

Take in more than I can handle.

But then again, there's always the hope that I'll get better.

Mom being home means that at home I have to eat--

Even though I just go and puke it all up afterwards.

She doesn't notice that part.

She doesn't notice how small I'm becoming.

To be honest,

Nobody does.

***

"You haven't came over in like two weeks, " Sam says one Friday.

"I'm sorry," is all I am able to mumble.

The truth is, lunch was hard enough. 

Seeing Jake and her together,

While he and I don't even speak.

It gets harder everyday.

Every day means another day they are together.

Every day I wonder what they talk about.

What keeps them together?

"You should come over," Sam says cheerfully.