Someone Like Me

Ashton Hoffman

I've never really cared about other people's thoughts...I mean...they don't matter to me. If they don't take the time to get to know me, I won't take the time to think about them and their needs. Why waste my time and affection on someone who just uses me? Too many people have lost my trust to things like that. My own father being one of them. 

Before my dad used my talent for extra cash, I liked to play the guitar. We had his business' money, my mom's, then mine. I opened a savings account in case I needed it. Neither of them cared if I worked for what I wanted, they'd just let me get it. 

I taught myself how to play the guitar throughout the span of three years. I played in talent shows, but the money from it that I thought was going to my bank account was actually going in my dad's pocket. He used it for drinking, my mom didn't care that the payments that were supposed to be going into my account...weren't. 

I quit playing because there was no fun in it anymore. Playing for money was something I'd intended to do. I played for my parents, so they would finally be proud of me. 

For a while I actually thought that they were, I was so naive. My parents were proud of the money I was making them, not me. They could care less, they never even went to any of my performances.

I lived in lies. Deceit and deviousness was all I knew. My father was very cunning and I hated him for it. He would make you believe he did something to help everyone, when it's only helping himself. 

I still live with them though, after all, they are my parents. No matter how much I despise them, I have to stay. I stay for the attention, everyone would turn against me if I left. I'd be the 'disappointment that got kicked out because of his, "terrible attitude"'. I need allies, not enemies. I have enough of those. 

Once I quit preforming I got into street fighting. I put all my emotion into it. Anger, sadness, and hate. I take my rage and agony out on other people. Every time my fist makes contact with a face, I feel better. Every time I hear the snap of bones breaking, I'm satisfied. It makes my problems seem more minor. Call me a psycho, but it's comforting in a way. It makes me feel alive. 

When I turned fourteen I got my first job as a dishwasher, then to stocking shelves, which lead to being a cashier. By the time I was seventeen I payed for a boxing trainer and a two year gym membership with my own money. I became a host so I could give my trainer monthly payments. 

People that look at me from my appearance assume that I've grown up getting everything I've wanted. When that was never the case. I wanted parents that were proud of me. I wanted parents that loved me and supported my decisions. I never got that.

I've already given up, it's not going to happen. No one can change their minds. They act like they care about me when we're around other people, but I know they don't. I know because they've never cared, at least not sincerely. 

So when people insinuate things about me, I have no patience with them. I detest them as much as their thoughts of me. No one likes being judged. But my reputation depends on it. 

I judge people, say rude things, start insane rumors, pick on people with a lower status, and I assume who people are when no one honestly knows. Overall...I like myself. 

But it would be nice to find someone. Someone like me.