Privacy [completed]

THREE| who is love?

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"You're wearing that?" Megan had asked.

I looked at myself. I never owned many clothes in the first place.

"You're practically a nun!" Megan had laughed.

I knew she was only teasing, there was no malice in her voice as there was hardly malice in her tone so it didn't hurt my feelings. At that time I was so numb compared to my vulnerable state currently. Nothing hurt me more than myself. I remember always being self-conscious about displaying any skin. It's always been scarred and bruised. Not only due to my lack of care, but also due to playing sports such as volleyball and soccer. I remember not wanting nor understanding how to respond to her, so I didn't.

"Damn," she rolled her eyes. "You never fucking respond when someone's talking to you. That's totally rude, ya know?"

I looked down at the ground. I am always making people upset with me. Whether it be my lack of personality or lack of spoken words, I cannot seem to make or keep anyone happy or comfortable around me. I never have been able to do that.

"I'm trying to make an effort," Megan huffed. She called my name and I let our eyes meet for only a few seconds before I couldn't help but to look away.

It's too intimate. Don't get close with me.

"Whatever. Do I make you uncomfortable or something?" She asked cautiously. "We've been in the same classes for like, I dunno, our entire lives!"

She's known me that long and never spoke to me until we had to part for good. I can't be upset. I had many chances to speak to her yet I never did as I never felt the need to do so. We were both to blame for the awkwardness and unfriendliness we had towards one another. I remember wondering at that time if she would cancel the trip because of me. I remember feeling a little excited about that possibility. But I let those feelings go as quick as they arrived. That wouldn't be fair to her nor my wallet since I'd already paid for everything.

"Whatever," she grumbled. "I'll just keep making an effort. It's up to you whether you want to accept me as your friend or not."

Friend? Effort?

"I totally don't mind," she shrugged. "You're a little weird and all-" she grumbled under her breath. "But it's totally whatever since you've been through some crazy shit."

If only she knew some of the shit that I actually went through then maybe I would be able to sympathize with her words. I didn't blame her for her lack of knowledge. She probably only went off the rumors of me trying to kill myself because my friends killed themselves. They were also on the volleyball team. It hurt the team to lose two players permanently and one temporarily. She probably went to the funerals too. I didn't as I was locked in a room and monitored like an animal with rabies.

She went back to doing whatever she was doing before she decided to talk to me. While she was occupied I glanced at her. She wore a bright pink spaghetti strap crop top with black leather shorts. Her butt was sticking out a little but it's nothing new as she is a tall volleyball player. But even so, I tried not to look at her butt. She deserved her privacy. I noticed that she had straightened her long hair and added her extensions in. She had applied makeup and finished off with lip gloss. She looked pretty. She always did.

Is Love fashion? She looked happier wearing those clothes. She looked more confident with her outfit on. The shoes on her feet were low as her ankles were displayed. At the time I wondered if I had made an effort would my feelings have changed? Would I be where I am right now? I got the answer to that question not long after I wondered it. Whether I felt better or not I'm still here with a rope around my neck. The reality is still the same whether I want a little eyeliner or bleach. Everything is the same no matter how much I try and try. Nothing ever changed for me. I've always had bad luck.