from a distance, I appear to be…whatever it is people assume of me I suppose. together. well kept. smart. heterosexual. pretty. strong. the usual. but those assumptions are expected from strangers. no one, not even the few that “know” me, stop to ask, “how did you get to where you are now?” because apparently my life seems so grand. it seems easy and what I put into the world was and is effortless. no one cares about the struggle. they are only interested in taking in surface observations and gathering bundles of gossip, envy, and weird gazes.
maybe it would be better if I don’t have sleepless nights. I don’t cry in the shower or feel like my work is pure crap. I didn’t have insane childhood experiences and nothing occurred that could have led me to be another drug user, knocked up, and with no high school diploma. I didn’t become fatherless at sixteen. I didn’t hear my mom scream from getting punched in the face by her shared boyfriend. I didn’t almost kill him. I didn’t go through depression and suicidal thoughts. I didn’t get forced to grow up fast. I didn’t think that I could die at any moment from a brain aneurysm, like my father. I didn’t have abusive relationships, court dates, and absolutely no self-worth. I didn’t use sex as a form of what I thought was love. I didn’t question my existence, asking God or whoever was listening to take me. I didn’t drink my way through high school. I didn’t have to battle losing friends because of sexuality or constantly being talked about just because of who I was attracted to.
I don’t have a tremendous fear of not being able to stay in love. I don’t cry hysterically because sometimes what is being asked of me is just too much. I don’t seclude myself, hoping that someone will come any way. I don’t just wish that I had a close enough friend to only call and ask, “how are you?” instead of ranting and complaining about their own life. I don’t feel lonely, worthless, and hopeless randomly for reasons that I can never come up with. I don’t feel like I should be diagnosed with something that could give me the pleasure of saying, “see! that’s why I act like this!” I don’t fear that I will be an emotionally detached mother and should never have children.
and I am working my ass off to produce good work and grades without wasting time and money. I am sacrificing everything that I believe in when it comes to spending time in a place that I am not happy, my job. I am someone that avoided the temptation to stay back home with lost hopes and only dreams of what I am doing now. I am strong. I am sensitive. I am emotional. I am dramatic. I am capable of loving someone else, genuinely, with every bit of the only heart I have. I am thankful for the positive (and negative) influences. I am someone who does get lost, slips up, and reaches disturbing points in life. I am not perfect.
but I am disgusted
by those who use their past troubles as justification cries for today’s screw ups. constantly screaming their back story when the only thing that matters is what choice is being made right now.
and I am disliked, envied, whatever because I left home or because I don’t have hallucinations of my right now, my later, my tomorrow, my future, of what and who I am or what and who I want to become.
I don’t have many friends. just a lot of people who like to stop by every once in a while to make an appearance.
so, I stay on my path and sometimes I trail off. I make smart decisions and not so smart ones. I leave my eyes and my heart open to anything and any one that wants something beautiful out of life and love and doesn’t spend hours yappin about it.
please don’t look at me and what I have and think that I have it easy.
it has been and is so hard.