No one sees me. I’m a white blank paper-not even the good kind- drifting in the wind of life, or at least, that’s what I was told in eighth grade by a peer with painfully blue eyes that I made contact with when he told me that. He said it in more of an insensitive way that only a Middle school student could. “You’re like a piece of paper without the lines,” he said. It was okay to me, I was called worse before. Unfortunately, the fact that this encounter was nothing out of the ordinary is what upsets me today.
I can feel how people see me; a peer that just isn’t quite capable of holding a conversation, the spazz, or as I’ve been told “just sort of, ya know, there.” It wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t have to watch everyone else get perfectly acquainted with their neighbors, laughing and getting things done, while I tend to struggle with communicating with people I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I have the same friends I’ve had since middle school or ninth grade. It feels like I’m just watching, begging to have someone come talk to me, someone to befriend me, or someone to at least speak to when there’s no one else. I have friends, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the uncertainty of their loyalty (that i’m not sure I deserve) that has me feeling as though my heart has been ripped out, leaving me a lifeless and cold individual. I remember going to a school event, everyone around me in groups talking. I tried various times to talk to my peers- they had shown me some sort of kindness, the people I spoke to-but the conversations each ended in about thirty seconds, leaving me feeling even more despondent.
I remember being friends with peers. Many of them I used to sit at lunch with everyday, joke around, or at least have a friendly conversation, but I constantly question myself since I haven’t spoken to them in a while “did they even care to talk to me? Do they hate me? Are they mad that we don’t talk anymore? Do they resent ever being my friend?” this and many more negative thoughts spring into my mind, leaving me speechless and anxious. I remember just wanting to leave the event. I was constantly rubbing at my eyes to keep myself from crying. After those several attempts at conversation, I sat down in a chair-secluded from everyone else-and waited, thinking more and more with aggressive misery.
I remember the day it happened. I remember when she was on the bus, sitting by...