How Afraid I Am Without You

Part 1

I should probably introduce myself, but I don't know how.

I shall have no name.

I shall do as I always do.

I will exist.

I may be real to you, or I may not.

Where am I from? You may guess from my written speech; my grammar, my spelling, my terms, my words - but you will not know, not for certain.

What do I look like? All you know is that I am a fifteen year old girl, writing these words some time before you are reading them; perhaps hunched over a screen somewhere, but what am I doing now? How am I doing it.
I don't know.
We could walk past eachother in the street once several years ago, or see eachother every single day.
We could be breathing the same air, feeling the same butterflies of excitement, loving the same love; yet never knowing.

All you know about how I look is that cover, gazing out at you.
Supposedly, the eyes are the windows to the soul.
But is that the soul behind these words, or has it grown stale and bitter in the time for these words to sit and wait and be poured over by you?

That soul could be shattered, but yet a tiny fragment of it at that time remains, and that is all you know of how I look.

And finally, who am I?

In truth, I do not know, and that shall be my story.