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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world, you've admitted something painful already today so take it easy on yourself.

The rain is nice and I'm thankful that I got to cry today.

I really hate her. I hate that like an abuse victim, or a drug addict, I long for her. I hate that I think about her whenever another friend's name comes up. When I try to study for my class, it's her dream that I think about... because it was my dream first. People are allowed to change dreams. People can change hearts or friends and lovers but I still hate that it had to happen. It makes me think about the others and wonder if I could change those as well. I wonder if those friendships would make me feel any better. I haven't made any new friends since high school.... but really, I don't blame myself.

I'm not one of those people who has enjoyed switching schools. Kindergarden I had a really amazing best friend and I could have stayed but my brother couldn't attend the school. That change wasn't very hard and I honestly don't really care that much now that it happened. When I was younger I wanted to be one of those people who went to school from K-6 with the same people. I thought that was one of the coolest things ever. You would know so much about people this way and it was one of the key things in being popular or having someone crush on you since they were little. Sixth grade I tried to flunk out. I didn't want to leave. There was NOTHING to look forward to. I resented my mother for it. I couldn't scream at her or yell, telling her my opinions never worked. I never had a say in my future.

I HAD SO MANY FRIENDS THEN! WHY THE ******** SHOULD I HAVE LEFT THAT SCHOOL! There were... no benefits. I only got into one fight. I only cried to her ...once. I swear.

I hated those girls. I hated myself for trusting them. I hated myself for mistreating the boys who accepted me for WHO I WAS IN THE FIRST PLACE. I hated myself for ever trusting normal people. I hate popular people. They taught me to judge people based upon wealth and family. They taught me to judge on appearances and how to spread rumors. They informed me of the true nature of the female gender. They were lies.

Seventh grade......eighth grade, what a cruel prank. My choice manipulated and pulled towards leaving. My dreams, I didn't know. My wishes... only to try something new. Something was wrong, I didn't know. I didn't know. I couldn't say. All I knew, I hurt. I cried for no reason. It terrified my best friend.

I had to lean against the back door the library to hold myself up while I cried, sobbed and screamed those early mornings. I teased and did anything to stop myself from thinking about it. I did anything to stop thinking about it. Keep quiet. Keep quiet. Lies.

It dawned on me,

I was leaving you.

I was leaving you again. I was gonna go through it all... all over again. Again I was going to start over. Again I was gonna reconnect with the two of you. Again I might lose you both. We might be too busy again for one another. We might be from two different worlds.

And we were.
...we might still be.

One choice. All the difference.
I miss me too.