Why is it that some days I just want to sit down and cry? But I can’t. The tears just won’t fall. That’s probably because there’s nothing to cry about.

Right now, I just don’t want to be here. I can’t stand all the judgmental people surrounding me, glaring at me with their beady eyes and cawing at me like a bunch of fat, filthy crows, picking at plastic wrappers in the Kroger parking lot.

I can’t stand it when I trip over the floor and feel like the most awkward person in the world right when I was starting to feel pretty rad.

I don’t want to be just plain, brown, boring average. I don’t want to be a idiotic fool and believe that my experiences are anything new. My life could so easily be a waste.

What do I want?
I want what I don’t have. I want you.

Today I avoided you because every time I am within a ten-foot radius of you my face feels like it’s on fire. I probably look I smeared ketchup all over my face. Attractive, huh? I’m told when I blush, it’s just the blood rushing to my face.
Did you know that blood is actually blue when it’s inside you?
You probably did.
On that bus ride home you told me about bananas. You said bananas could make someone happy. I beg to differ.
I loved the way you actually answered my questions that day.
Other people laugh at my seemingly random questions and say I’m cute. But you agreed with me that nothing is random.
I loved the way you treated me like I am as old as I am.

On that long bus ride, you fell asleep and I wanted to put my head on your shoulder.
But you’d probably have woken up and been creeped out.
That would have been awkward.

She’s lucky, you know.

But is she? Are you going to marry her? Or, someday not too long from now, will you break her heart? Will she break yours?

You know what? I know a girl. I’m pretty sure you know her, too. She’s a pretty lucky girl.
This girl has parents that think she can do anything, even though she can’t.
She has two brothers and a sister that bug her sometimes. But, deep down, she loves them and they are pretty awesome.
She isn’t fat (although she thinks she is at times) and she takes after her mom. So naturally, she’s pretty cute.
She has loving, patient friends. They listen, without complaint, to her rant about her terrible mornings with her wet dog incidents and spilling her milk. They comfort and reassure her when she’s scared and insecure.
This girl isn’t anything extraordinary. Actually, she’s pretty average. But she hasn’t lived long enough to show the full extent of her talent.
She’ll probably be famous someday.
Just so you know, that girl is me.
And she doesn’t need you.