Lost

When I was growing up, the idea of being alone had always fascinated me. I guess part of the reason for this was the fact that I lived in a house with nine other people. The wish to have your own room was undebatable. Nonsense.
I also craved this concept because of the endless possibilities that came along with it. When I was alone, I could be whoever I wanted. My insecurities disappeared. No one was around to judge.
In these peaceful moments, I would always pretend that I was being interviewed by some famous magazine, and I lived the life of a celebrity, or I imagined my crush hiding behind the trees, secretly watching my every action. For a moment, the craziness in my life would slip away, and everything would be perfect.
I broke away from my family and escaped to the backyard as often as I could, and the tranquility soothed me, until one day, the eyes hiding behind the trees weren't created by my imagination.