Ungrateful little me

I’m really pathetic when you think about it. As far as misfortune goes, in circumstance, environment, opportunity, I probably have the closest thing to a perfect life anyone can think of. Certainly I’m better off than all my friends. I have two married parents who are loving and intelligent, we are a middle class family-we make enough to be comfortable, I’ve never had anyone close to me die-not even my dog. I have plenty of friends. I’ve never been abused, neglected, never gone hungry, without clothing or heat. I am in the top .02% of my class in school. I got a job at a very young age that I still hold, an enjoyable job. I have generous hours, I’m paid $400-700 a month and have nothing to spend it on but myself. I’ve won numerous awards, I’ve been invited to a prestigious summer conference in D.C. this summer. I recieve numerous college invites daily. I am a devout christain and I love the Lord my God. I’ve just been given the female lead (out of 20+ actresses) in the school play, my teacher’s love me, I take an English class 3yrs ahead of my grade, I’m running a business with a promising future. I’ve never been injured, never so much as needed stitches, never had a harrowing experience leaving nightmares to haunt me for years…..So, perfect right? I can’t imagine how the others on this site, or even my closest friends, have been through the things that they’ve been through.
But my friends don’t ever seem to fall into catatonic depressions, they don’t ever think about ending it. Though they, much like the rest of you, have been through much worse pain than I. What do I know of pain? I’ve always considered myself empathetic, but how can I really know if I’ve never actually experienced pain to that degree? Sorry, as a writer, this may be long. There you have it, the intro, this is why I am an ungrateful b****. A pathetic, self-centered, weak, little girl.

But. It HURTS. I can’t even describe this pain. The way is moves and sharpens, the way it dulls and grows. At times, dull and incapacitating, at others, sharp and stabbing. But always, always there. Growing, and spreading, and PAINFUL. Nauseatingly so. It is subtle, underlying, and so it poisons every aspect of my life. I can no longer sleep through the night. I suppose I should get on with it then. “What is so awful?” “Why the pain?” But OH the pain, I don’t think you could understand, the PAIN. The physical unceasing pain!

It hurts so.
This is annonymous right?
His name is Cody. Generic enough for this. Without all the drawlish details, I met Cody almost three years ago. He is my best friends brother, THAT made things interesting. Actually, I need to back up a bit. I am, as you my have gotten, conservative in some ways, reserved, and in others quite liberal. I have never kissed a boy, except for that one time in preschool but that doesn’t count, though I have been in several relationships. Also, at that point in time, I was a very private person. I was a horrendous worry wort of a child. I told no one, of my feelings. I felt they weren’t important enough, well I still think this, that I needed to put others needs before my own. Which is true, others have been through much worse.
Three years ago I moved next door to my best friend ( best move EVER). It was summer so we began hanging out in the evenings. Her brother sometimes came with her. He was nice, kind of funny, but not much else. One day Kayla (my best friend & his sister) gave Cody my phone number. We started texting. Never had my phone been so important to me, I don’t quite remember how it happened, but he unlocked my mind. Everything I had never dared speak, all my worries, unleashed. And he just walked me through it, he cared, he understood, and best of all, he didn’t judge. The early stages of love began then. Early stages would be what most high school relationship are, it is love, but it won’t last. Do to my hesitency, and school complications, though we both affirmed our feelings (Well, technically, the word “love” frightens him, I can tell), nothing came of it. No relationship.
But the conversations continued by phone. Before Cody, my phone would sit untouched in my room for hours or even days. Since Cody,  to this very moment, I can’t bear to leave it for more than a few minutes in case he texts me. Twice more over the next year and a half the relationship became viable, neither time did it happen. As the months passed, and I began to think differently, I realized I had fallen in love.
It is a scientific fact that a crush lasts for three months, if your feelings last longer you’re in love (of course I believe early stage love lasts a good six months). This is my favorite fact.
My life changed. What would I wear today, well what would Cody like? Should I make plans then? What if I get a chance to hang out with Cody? What classes should I enroll in? Which ones might be with Cody? My sleep patterns changed, he never went to bed before 11, usually later, and as time passed, neither did I. It is still this way for me. Three years and 5 boyfriend-offers turned down later, I am still hopelessly in love.
He dates girls, he is a lover, a kind, caring, wonderful man. He is my best friend. He tells me all about his girl troubles. About his worries, his hopes. I’ve worked him through 3 or 4 relationships personally now. Encouraging him to ask then out, consoling him if they say no. Acting excited when they say yes. Controlling my jealousy as he dates people it would be unwise for me to cross. And reminding him he’s not at fault when the relationships end. There is one girl that keeps popping up, she’s begun to worry me, but hey, I’ll get through it, right?
He knows my feelings, one of the worst decisions I’ve made. But as he knows, he has total control. There is NOTHING he couldn’t get me to do, unless I feel it would hurt him. I tell him everything. whether I want to or not. He’s not cruel about it. When he’s not otherwise mentally occupied. I can tell he really does feel bad about our situation. He’s sorry that he doesn’t feel the same way. In a complicated way he wishes he did, just so I wouldn’t be so awkwardly stuck. I doubt he knows the full extent of my emotions, but I’ll keep that much thank you.
I love him so much. For some people, the word love has become almost meaningless. Bland with over use. Dull of feeling. But for me, it is full of hopes and pain, and desire. And I believe the word means something similiar to him. The difference of course is then in our reactions. While I know with firm conviction that love is the perfect word for how I feel about him. I use it in my own mind, and occasionally over the years said it to him, and it means fully exactly what I mean. He has difficulty saying it. He knows it has meaning, and he is afraid to make promises he can’t keep. The only girl he’s ever been comfortable saying it to is that one girl that keeps coming up. That’s what worries me. He’s sure that at least at one point he did love her.
I’ve never felt like this about someone else before. And I don’t know if I ever will again. As his firm rejection solidified over the years and I realized it was a hopeless cause, I began trying to escape. But I’d changed my life. It was ALL centered around him now, and he is too important, he holds to much of things I should have kept hidden deep, to let go of now. He is invaluable. Besides that, he keeps me sane, or, at least he did. Before he began causing it.
Trapped. Encased in an inescapable pocket of pain and love.I can’t change this. And I swear I’ve tried, it’s gotten so painful I was desperate. But it’s just not happening.
Insanity and pain and love and pain. This is my life now. You hear joke and satire of people with voices in there head. Well, lucky me, I got to meet these voices. I’ve always had an active conscience, which spoke with a persona. But lately there are two, maybe three others. Some are cruel but all are honest, they argue often.
So, incapacitating pain that makes it difficult ot breathe, mentally unsound voices distracting me….
All my life I had…my life…planned out… Straight A’s-Valedictorian-Harvard|Ivy League- Enter field of PR as ghost writer- move up to management- move to large business-work my way to the white house-ghost write- eventually be press seceratary- retire and build my parents their perfect dream house. There you have it folks, my entire life planned out. But then..pain..and voices..and headaches…and lack of sleep…
Math had always been a thorn in my side. Science was becoming more bothersome. Two weeks ago my report card came back with the worst grades I’ve recieved since elementary school. My entire future…gone. GONE. Math gets worse and worse, I’ve actually forgotten the few things I understood. My ACT scores actually went down because of math and science.
I have lost my future, my life goals. I am in love, not happily, but in love just the same. I have lost my mind, and accepted it.
Suicide. It’s really a pretty word. Not gutteral or noisy. Quick and sharp rather.
What do I know of pain? Of love? Of loss? Nothing. I am a pathetic, ungrateful human. I am not worth your time. I doubt anyone would bother to read this whole thing. It isn’t worth it, much like me. I’m just a whiny teenage girl. Sad because her crush doesn’t like her and she got a bad grade. Other people have real problems, I have my self-pity. OH OW. There goes that f****** pain again. Not that it actually stopped, it just let the headache take over for awhile. Well, I’ve wasted enough of your time if you’ve gone this far. Move along then. I’m used to being passed over. I’m such a pathetic, ungrateful, unworthy, sorry excuse for a disgusting creature called a human being.