I don’t have a best friend, and sometimes I’m not okay with that. Most of the time, it’s really whatever. Who needs someone clinging to them 24/7? But then there are those really tough times when surface friends just don’t suffice. When you really need someone to tell you they’ll miss you if you cut the string. When it’s the last straw, and you’re so close you can taste it. Sometimes you need someone to feel guilty for leaving behind when you jump. Someone to just say, “I’d be no one without you.”

But no one would be no one without me. Everyone would have someone. They’d have someone to lean on for the two days (or less) they mourn. Then they’d forget about me like that. And that’s all I wish for. For me to be someone’s only, so that I’m not constantly thinking about leaving.

It’s constant now. And I know I shouldn’t because really, I’ve got so much going for me. But I’m done with this. I’m done with going through everyday with a smile that doesn’t falter even when I’m last picked. I’m done getting in trouble for the few moments I actually genuinly laugh. I’m done with my mother calling me an over-sensitive over-dramatic unappreciative brat. Maybe I am. Maybe that’s why I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without crying.

I’m so disappointed in myself. On a daily basis. I know I’m never working to my full potential. And I hate myself for letting my sister try to better myself when she shouldn’t even try. Because I’m useless. I don’t belong here.

No one can know this though. Never. Because I want to be remembered as the fun, eclectic girl with the best sense of humor. Who am I kidding? I bet my reputation is already down the drains. Oh well. I’m thinking one more year for me.