A Little Bit Melodramatic - Existing. Not Living.

-For Alex

HeyUm... I don't know really what to say. I guess you've noticed I haven't been to school in a while, and I'm sure you'ved guessed that its because I "didn't feel like going" like last time. I'm not here to whine and I feel like a retard sending you this but in all honesty, you're all I've got.

My life is not my own. I can accept that. I can't accept that I can't change it though, I know I can change it. I just don't know how. I'm in a trap right now. A big, suburban trap. I'm not living so much as just existing you know? People get told throughout their lives that this is what they're supposed to want (I know right? Spoiled little rich girl wwhining about having everything under the sun just handed to her). But this whole lifestyle, of doing nothing meaningful from day to day, nothing ever changing, that self centered mind set of pretty much everyone around you, its just a trap.

Everybody tells you that life is short and yet they tell you you need to prepare yoursefl for it. But by the time you're done preparing, its seems like life is already over, that all those chances you had to do something are gone because you spent all your time preparing for it.

I'm afraid. This isn't how I ever pictured my life going. When I was little, I wanted to be a dentist, or a singer, or something that I thought was so important. But now that I've reached a point where I can see the difference between the importance in life and the image of whats important, I know that I can't just sit here and wait for fate to come knocking at my door and say, hey! let's go! I know whats important now. I know that the preservation of life, that changing even just one person's life for the better, that's the real thing. That's the real point to being human.

My mother doesn't see this. She just wants to get through life with no problems, lay down in her death bed and say okay, I did it. My dad sees it the way I do, but lives in fear of my mother and the pressure of my sister. He's afraid of taking this lifestyle away from us, but I've told him, I wish to god he would. I'd rather be a poor, happy farmer than a rich unhappy suburbanite.

This sounds corny as hell, but I want to see the world. I only get one chance on this earth and I don't want to get through it without having experienced what it has to offer. I don't want to die and regret the wrong things. I want to be able to die and say maybe I didn't do the best, but I lived.

At the same time, I'm horrified of stepping outside of this box. I'm the prime example of what society says I should be. That I should just find my niche in this place, that I should be afraid of what I don't understand, that I should be afraid of the world outside my sheltered little life. My life consists of two points. Home. School. Back again. Nothing changes, theres no point. Hell, I'm afraid to leave the house right now, get on the train and go somewhere, go see things in my own hometown I've never seen.

My mother says I'm naive, and on alot of aspects I am. But I know the world is big ugly place, I know theres things in it that aren't rainbows and butterflies, I've experienced things she doesn't even know about. But at the same time, theres got to be something good out there. Nothing is going to change unless someone starts it. I just don't know how.

You probably don't care about this, and in all honesty, I don't blame you. I'd be pissed if some stupid little brat sent me a long ass letter just complaining about how "horrible" her life is, too. But like I said, you're all I've got. I know, its kind of sad hey? I mean, it's not like we're really that close. I kid myself sometimes that we are, but I know underneath we're really not. It's just that... it's like you've got it all figured out. You're chill about everything, you're smart, you're a better than decent guy and you seem... happy. Just happy. And you put up with my bullshit, so you're officially some sort of superhuman. So, now that I've hit this wall, I don't know what to do but turn to the only person I consider a human being still. Everybody I was stupid enough to let myself believe in has managed to show me their true colours, that they just don't care. I'll always be there for them, but I can't hope to find anything in return, and really, I don't want anything in return, I'm just glad I managed to make their day a little bit better somehow. But at the same time, I'm still afraid of being alone. I don't want to wake up anymore and wonder if anyone even cares that I did.