I know there's never been anything exceptional about me. Nothing sets me apart from everyone else. But I thought at least by now that being dependable, thoughtful, caring, friendly, patient, a good listener, funny, would count for something.
And it kills me because I know I'm no different than anybody else. But why is it ok for people to treat me like I'm a disposable object? Aren't I supposed to matter to someone by now? Shouldn't I have friends I go fun places with, stay up to all hours talking to, complain about too much homework and bad professors, be able to call and know that whatever it is I need, they'll do. Or maybe I've just been kidding myself my entire life and the effort I put into friendships is never going to be enough. I'm never going to be enough.
I know I blew it. If I had been more..insert anything really, here...I could've had some great friends. But it's too late for that now. I thought I was making friends. I thought that this time it would be different. I thought they would be there, and maybe, just maybe, I could forget about the past and make up for lost time, time they don't and will never know about. That didn't work out so well because once again I had to make a sacrifice, and that was myself.
What I'm left with is on again off again formal conversations and nights I have to fill with school work I have no motivation to do anymore. Nights I cry for the time things were better than this, and for a time I feel like is never going to come. All I have is waiting for the time to pass when I become invisible.
I feel like I'm losing my best friend. The worst part is she doesn't even know it and I'm not sure if she ever will. I wish I was courageous.