It's the eighteenth year of my life.
How I feel about it? Sad. Yes, I know exactly how it sounds.
I know that when we're 18, we're supposed to party hard and not give a shit about what's going on around us. I know it's supposed to be the perfect age. The final howl to the moon before we become adults, but for me it's just not like that. I'm 18 and I hate it. I wish I could be just like every kid my age, but I just can't. I feel like I'm so much older already. My body may be eighteen, but my soul is much older. I've grown tired of watching people pretending to be something they're not. Some pretend to be happy, some pretend to be smart, some pretend to be social butterflies just to fit in some dumbass society pattern, and that shit is not okay! We are supposed to be our own person, decide for ourselves, be who the fuck we wanna be. I guess that is why I hate my age so much, because all around me there are girls who have to act like skanks just to impress a group of skanks or some douchebag they like, there are boys who have to act like insensitive douchebags because their friends might call them gay if they dare to show some kind of feelings. There are people who struggle to impress their bosses in hopes they'll get a raise so they can buy a goddamn sports car or some high-tech phone. I've met wonderful kids who grow up to become assholes because it is the only way to survive in this shitty jungle. Survival of the fittest actually applies here. I am one of those kids. I used to be a cute little girl, all smiles and giggles. What happened to me, you might ask? Middle school. All those four years were a freaking nightmare. I met bullies and assholes, and soon-to-be whores who thought that, if you're not one of them, you're worth nothing and you deserved to be pushed around. Some might say that standing up to them is a solution. No it's not. Because once you stand up to one of them, the others will get involved and there's no way out. I know it sounds tough, but kids are mean fuckers. I don't know why, but I've seen it happen to me and I see it now, 7 years later. After years of being bullied, crying myself to sleep every night thinking about the fact that I had to go to school and face them again, I..somehow changed. I don't know exactly what forced that change, but I grew up into what I am today. I stopped showing my feelings and I started acting different. I really didn't expect my "tough act" to work, but surprisingly it did. Not because people noticed it too much, but because I started to see myself differently. Of course they still tried to shoot me down, but somehow they couldn't do it anymore. It stopped working and, eventually, they stopped trying. For a year or two, I was genuinely happy. But of course, good things don't last. I have made the capital mistake. I unknowingly, fell in love. My first love was this...funny guy, red hair brown eyes. He was a kid..well, a teenager, and we became friends. When I told him about the crush I had on him, he left. It hurt like hell. Yes, I know, a kid isn't supposed to have a heartache. Well I did, boo-fucking-hoo. I got over it, fell again. The guy seemed perfect for me. Metalhead, good-looking, well-mannered. Guess what happened? Yep, he left. I got over it again, tried to focus on my friends. Suprise, they left too. I stopped caring and went on with my life. Then, as I grew a little more, I became depressed. At first I thought I was just moody, but there were weeks when I would just cry myself to sleep and I had no idea why. I have learnt to accept my depression. Day after day, I keep smiling and acting like the happiest person alive. And everyone seems to believe it. I never dared to tell anyone about the way I feel, about the way I perceive my life as simply useless. Untill this summer. It was the first time I opened my heart, the first time I've let anyone see me as who I really am. God, how I wish I could be what he deserves. He always listened to me when I cried pointlessly, he always made me laugh when I couldn't breathe crying. He is always here for me and he makes me want to change the world so I can be by his side forever. He has made me realise that I, at least for him, mean something and he makes me, everyday, see the beauty in everything. He loves my crooked smile and my alien-ish eyes, he loves me even though I'm stubborn and mean. I don't deserve him, I don't deserve to be the reason of his huge smile, I don't deserve to play with his abnormally[for a guy] silky hair, I don't deserve to be the one he holds and kisses, the one he dreams of. I am so lucky that he loves me, I am so lucky to love him. I love him for who he is, and I love him because he makes me feel like everything is okay...like I'm okay. When he holds me, I feel like I'm that cute little girl again. He makes me feel genuine happiness without even trying.
The best part is that, with his help, I've come to realize that I have amazing friends, who care for me. A, if you see this, I want you to know that, even though I act like such a cunt sometimes, I love you from the bottom of my heart and I'll always protect you, I'll never let anyone hurt you.
Looking back, I have to admit I'm thankful to every person who, at some point, hurt me. Because if it wasn't for all of their torture, all of those tears and every minute spent wondering "what the hell is wrong with me?!" or "what did I do to them?!", I wouldn't be the woman(I know it's an overstatement because I'm only 18, but I like to think of me as a woman, not a girl) I am today, I wouldn't try to help those who are as damaged as I am and, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have been able to see how badly a broken heart can hurt.
I've learned to forgive everyone who did me wrong. After all, we're only human. Also, karma will probably take care of them and that leaves me satisfied. Of course, I could get revenge. Even now, after all these years, I could hurt them. But I really don't want that. I want them to be happy, even though they shredded my soul to little pieces, and then they threw it away for someone else to struggle to fix it. Sadly, I'm afraid I've been damaged beyond fixing. Yes, I am aware that I sound like a bratty child and I know that there are real problems out there. I know there are hungry, homeless children, I know. But you know what? Being in this kind of pain is tough, too. It is. You could have all the money in the world, a fancy car, designer clothes, jewelery. Anything, really. But there is no material good that could possibly heal the constant pain in your chest, the feeling that you belong nowhere, the desire to just close your eyes and never wake up again, the constant need to cry your eyes out.. Yes, I live with that feeling. I've accepted the fact that it is a part of me now, but I can't help but hope that one day, I'll wake up and it will be gone. I hope that one day, I will genuinely smile. Just for once, I hope I won't have to clench my fists to fake a smile so that people around me won't see me as the damaged soul I am.
