There are the kinds of days i write about, ones like the one that happened today. The heroine of the story would be falling apart, her life seems to have no point any longer. She cries and cries and is alone at a park, she's getting drenched as the sky cries with her. Her everything is ending, people are leaving her again and it's shaking up her heart showing off the old scars. Just when she decides that the gray clouds are happier than her, just as she decides it's not worth living through the storm her savior appears. He's sweet and charming and easy-going to an extent he could only be a work of fiction, but he's breaking down all her walls and making her see the color in life again. Yes, this is a work of fiction. Today, i was that girl; the girl crying heartbroken and lonely to an extent no one can help, or someone could if they really wanted to. Today, i sat in the rain for hours (for reasons i will explain later) and cried until my eyes were throbbing. You want to know the difference between fiction and reality? In reality there is no boy. in reality he never comes.
Lately I've been realizing that earth is a shit-hole. What took me so long you ask, and the answer is that I'm an eternal optimist. My first love was pushed over the edge, so he finally just left me. I don't blame him and i never could; I just wish it didn't end the way it did. I'm not going into details in that one though, because looking back at it now it seems like nothing; a speck on the horizon. I don't have too many complaints about my biological dad, i mean he didn't really have a good dad himself and i know he doesn't know how to show me he cares and I've gotten used to that; after all i did choose to move in with him. The biggest problem with my real dad is that he can't see that I'm an original, that I excel in many more points than other people do. He keeps comparing me to people who's standards for themselves are too high and they don't get a moment to be young and free. I take full advantage of being young and beautiful, and if you want to hate me for it go ahead.
Since my own father is so emotionally detached i turn to my step-dad (David or Dave) to fill that spot, something he's been doing since my parents got divorced since i was three. My mom is really, REALLY good at ruining relationships with males; and i know that. One thing i never saw coming, though, was David leaving her. He is practically my dad, and it kills me to hear her say nasty things about him but at the same time i can see some of her points. Right now my brother (the only person in this world that's had my back through EVERYTHING) Cody is visiting from Pratt in NYC. He'd rather be back there. The thing that makes me cry myself to sleep at night is the fact that he doesn't have to keep loving me. He (David) doesn't have to keep caring about weather i live or die once he signs those papers, and he proved that to me a few days ago by taking me off of his list of children on facebook. That means nothing and I'm being paranoid right? Wrong. By doing that he was proving to me that he really could just turn his back on me.
Our family is sickeningly happy. Well happy that (even with everything that's happening) we all know to play along and smile and nod and pretend none of this is hurting you as bad as it really is, i run everyday just so i can find a curb to sit on and cry. I know that if i let so much as one tear fall my little cog in the machine we call our family will ultimately lead to everyone else to break down, but all i really want to do at this point is die, to avoid the slow and painful death that's happening. If i stop putting on my happy face it'll all fall out of whack and there won't be any way to fix it. After all, they're selling my childhood house.
My entire point (you probably can't see it but i can) is that there isn't a single guy on the planet who'll be there for you as long as you need them. Not-a-one. Not your boyfriend, best-friend, brother, or even your dad. What happens when David leaves and I need him more than i ever have before? I'll be left alone
In reality, he doesn't exist. In reality, the perfect guy never comes.
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