The Last Kiss Goodbye

Chapter 1 All i want is love. Is that too much to ask for?

Chapter 1 All I want is love. Is that too much to ask for?

I bolt to my room with tears-filled eyes, slam the door, jump on my bed, and smother my face in my pillow. They just never will understand, will they?

After I finally calm down, I sit up in my bed with my back against the headboard and my tear-stained pillow in my lap.

I start to fiddle with my somewhat long brown hair and think on whether I'll ever find someone to love me. I feel unloved by my family and sometimes even my friends. It's sad, I know, but it's true.

My parents are always into something other than me, and most of the time that other thing is work. I see their point in a way: they've got to have a job to get money and they've got to have money for food and stuff. But just because I see their point doesn't mean I agree with it. Jobs, money, stuff: they only go so far. My parents have taken it way, way too far.

My friends are great! They really are and I love them to death, but at times I don't think the feeling is mutual. I I feel like an outcast. I feel like I'm a second option, a backup plan at times. I don't know if they really like me, and that makes me sad. Why don't they like me? Why am I always the second option, instead of a first priority?

All I want is love. Is that too much to ask for?

I hear a light knock on my door. I sit up straight and attempt to cover up that I was crying. I say nothing.

I listen to somebody stand there for a minute and then hear my mom say "food's ready! It's waiting on you at the table. Dad and I will not be able to eat with you tonight. I have a ton of work to catch up on. Same with your dad. We're going to be in our offices if you need us,"she tells me. Then she hesitates and adds, "And if I suggest you hurry up before your food gets cold." Then I hear her leave.

I slump back into my previous position and begin to cry all over again.

A few minutes later, I recompose myself, get off my bed, and go to my dresser. I look into the mirror and see how bad I really do look, a reflection of how I feel. I notice my light brown hair is out of order, like it hasn't been brushed in a week. Next I glance at my eyes: blood shot and puffy.

I drop my head and walk to the kitchen where, just like mom said, my food is waiting on the table for me: chicken salad.

I sigh and go sit down at the big table, alone. As soon as I sit down, I notice my ice-filled glass. I guess mom didn't know what to get me. I go to the big fridge and pull out the container tea pitcher. I fill my glass, put everything away, and return to my seat.

As I eat my food, I think on how my family has changed since I was little. I remember when I was small and all my parents wanted to do was love and care for me. Now that I'm almost fifteen, it's the complete opposite.

I know they still love me. That's not the issue. They just don't express their love for me anymore.

I look down at my plate and notice that my plate is more than half-full and I'm starting to feel full.

"Yes, we can do that! What about this Friday?'' My mother says through the home phone as she's walking into the kitchen.

I turn around in my seat and look at her and her also brown hair. She's writing something down on a sheet of paper that's on the kitchen counter. "Okay, well I guess we'll see you then" she says and then hangs up the phone.

I open my mouth to say something but she turns around and walks back into her office. I quickly shut it as my eyes tear up once again. I turn back to my food and realize that I've lost what little appetite I had. My tea looks equally unappetizing.

I scoot out of my chair, rake the remains of my food in the trash and put my plate, fork, and cup into the dishwasher.

I walk back into my room shut the door, and just stand there for a minute and think. My room is a pretty good sized room, not as big as my parents, but an okay sized room. My friends that have visited my house before all say my room is huge, but I don't know if I completely agree.

My room has light purple walls and contains my bed, dresser, tv, walk-in closet and small bathroom. When you first walk in. My tv, which is hung on the wall, and my canopy bed are on the left side of my bedroom door. The doors to my bathroom and closet are on the right. My dresser is straight ahead.

My friends also say that my house is large, but I don't know if I agree with that either.

The double front doors lead to the living room which contains a flat screen tv, a fairly large couch, and two recliners.

To the right of the living room is the kitchen. It's pretty basic: a fridge, counters, cabinets. People do comment on the large amount of open space in the kitchen, though.

Straight past the fridge is the dining room which is really just a room containing a huge table with a lot of chairs around it.

Left of the dining room is the stairway and right of the dining room is the downstairs hallway that leads to mom's office, dad's office, the guest bedroom, another bathroom, and my parents' room.

At the top of the stairs is an overview the kitchen and part of the living room. The upstairs hallways leads to the storage room, my bedroom, the play area and another bathroom.

Ok, so maybe we do pretty well financially, but so what? What if I don't care about all this stuff? What if I would rather live in a trailer where my bedroom would probably be the size of my closet just so my parents would notice me again?

Money, things, jobs: they can't bring happiness. Love brings happiness, not things.

The sad thing is, I feel I can't tell anybody about my knowledge of this fact, especially not my parents! They would accuse me of being ungrateful. I can't tell my friends either. They'd just say something like, "What? Are you crazy? I would love to live in your house!" or maybe, "Are you okay? Sick? Your place is awesome!''

I feel a lot of the time that I have no one to turn to.

I get between the sheets of my bed and cuddle. The clock reads 6:45PM. That isn't bad. Going to bed early is better than doing nothing all night.

Within minutes I'm in a deep sleep. I didn't even bother to change my clothes, but it doesn't matter. Sleep is my happy place. I get to escape reality and dream about living in a place where no one has to worry and we can all just be ourselves.