Forgive Me I'm A Liar (But This Is MY Story)

June 6, 2012
By Anonymous

I was looking for a change.

So I got on a plane.
Alone, and off into the uncharted places of my imagination.
I had a bracelet; for unaccompanied minors.

I was under 15 so I was being watched carefully by the plane crew.

I sat in between two men.
One decided to sleep.
The other, decided to talk to me.

He touched at where my bracelet was wrapped and asked,
"What happened to you?"
I didn't understand.
"I mean...Is that a hospital bracelet?"

Then I realized.

He didn't even know my name.

I told him my name was Skyler.
I was being shipped off to my aunt's for the summer because I had been in a mental hospital for the past 5 months for attempted suicide.
But I was stable and happy now.

I let pieces of my slip out.

I met a man in the tunnels of the airport.

I told him my name was Amanda.

And I told him all my dreams.
And I told him I wanted to live in Colorado.
And I told him I could paint, and that I had lost a baby.
I told him I loved the color yellow.
And that I was allergic to cats.

I let pieces of me slip out.

I ran around and made up stories.

Because I loved how no one knew me.
No one even knew my name.

I met a woman in a taxi.

I told her my name was Alex.
And that I did yoga.
And I hated thunder.
I told her I had a boyfriend, and he was quite brilliant.
I told her sometimes I imagined that M&M's were pain pills.
But I would take handfuls at a time anyways.

I let pieces of me slip out.

I met a man while walking my aunt's dog.
I told him my name was Isby.

I told him I could dance,
And had boys chasing me.
I used to be ugly till I dyed my hair and caked on makeup.
But I had never been kissed.

I let pieces of my slip out.

I met a boy at the lake a block away.
I told him to call me Jay.
Because I didn't like my full name.
I told him that I was from California.
And he looked amazed.

I told him that not everyone lived near the beach.
I told him that not everyone can surf and says, "Dude."
I told him I lived in a tiny town.
And a lot of people spoke Spanish.

I told him I was happy here.
And he complimented my impressive tan.

He has but a piece of me.

But he didn't even know my name.

I wonder if all my friends got together,
They would know my story?

They all have pieces of me.
But no one ever tries to put together my story..


I met a woman in a parking lot; begging for change.

I sat beside her.
And she asked me my name,
And I told her it wasn't important.
Because a name doesn't define who I am.

I told her I was lonely.
And that I always wanted to drive a motorcycle.
I told her that at 11:11 I wished for other people's wished to come true.

Because I'd like to think selfless wishes always come true.

I told her I had scars.
And she told me I was beautiful.

I gave her a piece of me.

I met a girl in a grocery store.
I told her I was a vegetarian.
And my first daughter I was going to name,"Sophie."
Because it was so gentle.
And I didn't want her to be hurt by the world and all its vastness.
I told her that I would love to be her friend.
And that I wish I could hike with someone.

She had a piece of me.

But it was time to go.

And I still had one more story.
My story.

I sat on the plane and on a brown paper bag I began..

"My name is ...... And this is my story.."

But I realized...
I had already given it away.

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