identity crises.

Their eyes are always watching me.

She’s the “party” type, squeezing into tiny skirts and ribbed crop tops. I’ve been for one party in my entire high school existence. I don’t drink, despite constant pressure from not only everyone around me but also my parents who think there’s something awry about my life. Well, then she’s got be a “nerd”, that would explain everything. I don’t get straight A’s, and I have a couple of C’s here and there. I push myself to the extremes, but it doesn’t always work out for me. We have it now, she’s the “mystery”- the wildcard that no one seems to see through. I can’t really provide answers to that now, can I? It wouldn’t be a mystery if I was honest.

The truth is I can’t be categorized. There’s simply no box for the complex workings of my life. I’m just here and there and everywhere. I haven’t figured myself out, and I don’t think I ever will.

Their eyes still watch me.

I can’t help it. Welcome to high school. It’s been 3 years, and reality hits now.

There’s nothing left to watch.

I’ve been gone too long to matter. There’s only bits and pieces, and everything’s broken.

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