i was a little girl.  with long brown hair and light green eyes like both of my parents.  when i would smile, my eyes would disapear.  and when someone would talk to me, i would disapear. 

i used to walk up to my bedroom wall and put my face up against it. like if i thought deep enough, i could become a part of the wall, live in the existence of something stationary.  something unimportant.  something that no one notices.  you would never need to know who i was. you would never have to see me, and i could go on in my imaginary world with my imaginary friends that existed so real to me.  because they were like me.  shy.  sweet.  insecure.  alone.

i could be alone.  i could be happy. 

when i started school, i realized that i was weird. but i worked hard to get a smile out to those that noticed me.  to talk to those who started conversation.  and then eventually make my own conversations.  i knew that if i tried i could beat this.  i could become someone normal. someone that liked people. that could be the center of attention and not die.  someone that could be noticed and not cry.

sometimes it feels as if i have gone so far one way that no one knows who i was.  and i like who i was.  i find something so beautiful in this lonely girl.  the girl who talked to herself.  who cried herself to sleep.  who hoped to God no one saw her, but hoped even more that someone did.  this girl that i still am.  that still is so alive and that fights to come through everyday. the girl that when life gets hard,  wants to hide in the wall.  and when someone sees her for something more, she’d want him to take someone else instead.  because then she won’t have to put her heart in anything.