Pondering my Life

I feel like...I'm never actually THERE anymore, you know? Like in school I'm not in my desk taking that test over God knows what. I'm somewhere else entirely, or atleast in my mind I am...
I wish I actually COULD be somewhere else. Honestly, people talked about how drama can spread in high school, but NEVER did they say how BAD it was. You say one wrong word or tick off one snotty girl and BOOM. You're the new school slut! Congratulations!
I mean seriously?
Anyways, my "happy place", as my P.E. teacher called it, is somewhere on the English country side. Away from all this overdramatic slop. Tall green grass, old, historic ruins, and blue skies everyday. Not a cloud in sight. Poetry of the sky, right there above me, almost like the night time stars. My favorite quote is from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, "Give me my Romeo, and when he shall die cut him up in tiny little stars and he will make the face of Heaven so fine that all will be in love with night"
Pure literature. Though I don't believe in love much anymore. Love seems to have packed its bags and hailed a cap straight out of my belief system. My friends say they're in love all the time, and what happens? They end up with broken hearts.
In my Tudor style town house, no men equals no heart breaks.
Yet I've always found some slight ray of hope for love at first sight...
Maybe it's just myth...I'm not so sure anymore. I think that if love REALLY exsists, then it will come and prove it to me. I want love to hit me like a double decker bus as I wonder onto the streets of London pondering over little things like this, because all anyone really wants in life is to feel wanted and needed by someone...someone special.
My hundreds of cats disagree.
The wall-to-wall library in my house in England proves I'm a complete book worm.
My obsession with my body image shows how many times I was bullied as a child.
The fact that I can't look that one person in the eyes and tell them I like them a little...or ALOT shows how petrified I am of rejection.
I'm the average pasty skinned brunnette with no life ahead of her because she can't take control of a situation without breaking down in an emotional heap.
I think I would have had a much easier life if I had been born in the 1600's.
I would have been married off to a rich merchant or duke and raised several children, who most likely would have killed me during child birth and those children would have grown up motherless and possibly died of disease at the age of 32. And there would have been my life; plain and simple.
I tend to wonder about the huge what if's as well.
What if I were a boy?
What if he liked me back...?
What if I'd gone here and said this instead of what I DID say?

"Alright class now turn your attention to page 300 in your books..."
Who writes 300 pages worth of crap that only 20% of the class will retain 10% of?
And the process begins anew...