Forward

My quietness and inept social ability has kept me from having friends. If only I could be my 6th grade self again would I be able to talk to that boy behind me in English. But I think from then and now and in between, tragic experiences, I've lost who I am, my beloved me who'd close up at school. I psychologically refuse to show myself involuntarily.

In seventh grade after the death of my mother, I moved to s new school. This meant that all my best friends and the last I would ever have were gone. I had no shoulder to lean on. Besides, if I did stay in that previous school, my best best friend, let's call her Hill for identity purposes, wouldn't have been there because like me, she'd transferred to different school. However, we did keep contact over email for a year, but only a year, Eventually, the emails interchanged came in less and less until it gradually stopped. I don't blame her since if I remember correctly, I majorly complained about the blandness of the new school. When me and Hill had been friends, we were the peppy annoying types who'd scream across hallways yelling each other's names. And I don't know how, but we have found a reason to laugh in the days we had together.  Nothing could stop us.

(Sorry. I lied. I actually did have another best friend to depend on, but we lost our connection due to my moodiness. Most of the time when she wanted to hang out, I was paralyzed in depressive thoughts, or slept to kill time. There wasn't so much to conversate about anyway and nothing interesting to do.)

Anyways, we drifted apart as most friendships did and while she made friends, I didn't. My days were filled with stress, awkward conversations, and depression. So you can see, making friends had been no easy task. There were times in seventh grade where I'd walk the hallways and felt my legs physically wanting to cripple and I imagined myself there on my knees while people passed by me on their way to class wondering if she'd gone crazy. In total, life was bad. I kept asking myself where  the girl who easily made best friends at whatever school she went to gone? She'd left me with this body of a shell with void of emptiness where her heart should've been.Along with constantly wanting to die.

But I'm over it now.

That hole doesn't feel empty to me anymore. I'd regained some parts of myself after some time. Still, there were pieces permanently lost. What I can besy describe to you what that girl left me was an blank canvas. Like my life had somehow restarted and I can only build upon it from there. Every small happy moments or hurtful ones became a stroke of paint on it's textured surface. And in a positive way, it also means I can control whatever I want on it.

So that's what I've been doing with my list of things I want to do in life before I die. Okay, fine. Perhaps I may not be one hundred percent honest and can be seen slacking off doing other things wasting my valuable time, but I do remind myself. I do.

What I don't want to do with my life is reminisce the past as a reason for every time I'm unhappy. I guess this is promise I should keep with you, dear reader.

But I do wish sometimes I was my young ignorant self again having all the fun whose words effortlessly fell from her mouth and didn't mind being mean.

And a song ♪