synonyms. (don't want to talk about it).

March 22, 2011
Alone. Alone, alone, alone, alone. I’m not really alone but at the same time, I am. It feels like someone has taken out a vital organ from my body and now I’m just… empty. That’s how it feels anyway. Alone. Rejected. Deleted. Gone. Bye. Hope to never see you again. I’m an old piece of notebook paper, one covered in scribbled inside jokes and sketches of flowers and bows, but now tossed into the compactor, ground up and driven away. You know what happens to trash? It gets tossed away mindlessly, gets crushed up and then burned. Yeah, that pretty much sums up my life. Now, think about this. The delete key. Beautiful words have been typed, celebrated and then, bam! The delete key is pressed. You could write your whole life story about that girl, the one you are so close to she’s your “sister”, but now, she has sort of ditched you, and then, when you are in the middle of chapter two, the one where she realizes that how she’s been treating you is wrong and you have a tearful conversation that ends in best friends forever again, she presses delete. Goodbye. See you. Get out of my life. Yeah, that’s right, leave. The exit is over there. And, oh yeah, she deleted your masterpiece to. And now, here you are. Alone. Because she is so popular and beautiful and kind when she needs to be, no one can resist the magnets in her carefully manicured claws. She doesn’t really want you, she wants that your feeling of rejection. So, when you told an adult, they said, “Well, you have another friend to talk to, right?” and you said yeah, so and so. Well then, she’s your trusted confident is gone. She’s sitting at the popular table, giggling with that crowd and ignoring you in the halls. You know she’s making a fool out of herself, and she knows it to. But she wants it SO BADLY and wouldn’t you want it to? I wanted it once too. But, not anymore. If I could take back all the times I stood awkwardly in front of the popular table, begging for a seat or at least someone to sit with, I would. If I could take back all the times she hurt me and then I turned around and forgave her just so she could have plans on a Saturday night when any other worthy person was out of town. I told myself, I would never be that girl. The one looking for a place to sit, begging some girl to sit with me on the bus. Listening to sad music as tears poured down my cheeks. Well, here I am. Spending Saturday nights at home with my mom watching movies while they all attend parties and dance until their feet hurt. You know that I love dancing until my feet hurt? No, of course you wouldn’t know. See this desperateness? I actually had plans for this weekend. Well, guess what? I got ditched. Again. Those girls who text you and ask you how you feel with the full intention of forwarding the messages to the whole school after. The ones who try to trap you into a conversation. Who won’t take no for an answer. So, I will sit here, close my eyes, shut the curtains and pretend I am six again. Innocently dreaming that the world is a good place. Alone. Rejected. Deleted. Cast aside. Discarded. Denied. Dismissed. Eliminated. Sitting at home, crying alone in my room, staring at my phone, daring it to vibrate.

(It didn’t).

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--LoveHappens-- said...
Jun. 25, 2011 at 11:04 pm
wow that was really really good work! you are an amazing writer i love all of your metaphores and i know exactly how you feel. well done! i can really connect!
SparksFly13 replied...
Jun. 27, 2011 at 1:29 pm
Thanks so much :)!
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