Just Be You.

Sometimes I just get sucked into these moments where I can't hear anyone. I'm the only one there. It's not like a normal daydream. I just think about everything. Where I want to go. Places or people I want to see/meet. And in those moments everything is just right. My mom isn't yelling at me to "clean the house. I'm tired of doing all the word". No step-dad saying "get a job. Do something with your life." No older sister trying to get me to be her. No little sister telling me "you're not as smart as you think you are. You're stupid. You're ugly." But in this moment, I can't hear anything they say to me. Yet, they don't know that I am doing something. I'm dreaming. I'm contemplating. I'm imagining. I'm writing, and I'm making my life beautiful. When I get a blank piece of paper and a pen, I feel as if I can do anything. I can take all the hurt, the pain, and all the words they throw at me and it becomes art...a poem...a story...a song...it becomes a dream. They tell me I'm childish. That I need to grow up. How can I if no one is around to help me. All I've ever had is a blank piece of paper, a canvas, or an empty word pad on my computer. That's the only time I can ever be myself. They can't tell me who I should be. What they expect me to be. Which is my sister. She is and always will be their favorite. Me and my other sister get nothing and she always got everything. Because she's the more responsible one. Yet, she's the only one that is truly screwed up. I kind of feel sorry for my little sister at times. Because she has nothing. At least I have a blank piece of paper to get me through the sleepless nights where the tears just wouldn't stop. She keeps everything inside. One day she is just going to explode and I'm afraid I won't be able to help her. I don't want to leave because I know I can't take her with me. It's strange though. We used to hate each other. We were always fighting. Always arguing and stayed far away from each other. Now...I hate to say it but I understand her. She is just like me and until now I was too blind to see it. We still have those moments where we argue and hit each other but what siblings don't? The only person that ever tried to help me was my father. He's in jail. And until recently I actually believed he was the only one that cared about me. He wrote us a letter from jail. And in it he said we were a curse. And that we ruined his life and we're the reason he's in jail. He said we were a mistake and he should have left when he had the chance. Now that's a guy that truly cares about what I do with my life. Yeah. He's a great dad. One time he even took us on a vacation for four days. Oh, and he ended up in jail there too. But at least he gave us some money so we'd be able to make it home. Yeah, except he stole that money from his mom. You should meet him. You would love him. Everyone does. That's why he was voted Dead-Beat Dad of the Year. I am nobody. I will always be nobody. I say that because I don't know who I am any better than the next guy knows who I am. When I think I have everything figured out and I know what I was meant to do with my life. Something or someone does or says something and it changes everything. I don't have a best friend. And i only have three friends. None of which know anything about me. My boyfriend that I've been with for over four years, he doesn't know me. He thinks he does but no one does. My mom couldn't even tell you my favorite color. My step-dad who has been with us for 16-17 years couldn't tell you what day my birthday is. My dad doesn't know how old I am. Neither of my sisters have ever read a single one of my poems and understood exactly what it meant and why I wrote it. One of my friends that I've known since second grade told me...she doesn't want to talk to me anymore because I depress her. She said I wasn't doing anything with my life. It's true I'm not. I didn't try to lie or make up some elaborate story. However, if she was really my friend she would ask me "Why?". Why aren't I doing anything? I don't know what I want to do. The truth is I'm so afraid of becoming like the rest of my family that I'm too afraid to try anything. I'm afraid of people because I'm insecure. I'm afraid that I'm going to make a huge mistake that I just can't fix no matter how hard I try. Maybe I'll be a photographer. A writer. A poet. An artist. A veterinarian. A designer? It doesn't matter. Nothing I do will ever be good enough for them. The only time I'm truly happy is when I'm in my moment. When I'm the only one there and all I can hear is the voice in my head saying "You can do it. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are not a nobody. You are me." Oh the bitter sweet sounds of misery!