Complex.

Nothing traumatic has happened in my life. I don’t plan on comparing my story to anyone else’s. Because I am nothing, just like my story. All I know is I have limited friends, none of which are very close to me. I have a terrible relationships with my family, which consists of my mom, dad, and sisters. I just went through a breakup. Typical teenage worries. What’s not so typical is my feeling of emptiness. There are some days that I feel nothing. There are some days that I’m angry for no reason, or some days I’m un-explainably happy about everything. Some days, I want to die. Who’s going to miss me? I don’t feel important in anyone’s life. My death won’t make the sun stop shining, the seasons stop changing, or the world to stop spinning. It will still be day and still be night. The sun will shine and the rain will fall. I’ll die someday anyways. Why not spare myself all the other misery I’ll go through later in life? I put on a mask throughout the day, when I go to school or to work. Nobody suspects me to be the freak I really am. To them I am simple, to myself, I am complex. xoxo