What Am I?

A story about a time when I was second guessing who I was and wondering about friends. I changed names and some details.

          Breathe, Anna, breathe. You’re stronger than this. I chanted in my head over and over again to stop myself from crying. You can’t let your weaker side shine through. I thought. Crying will just bring questions. You know they didn’t mean to, it was just friendly jokes. My more rational side spoke up. I knew that they hadn’t meant any harm, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

          After classes today I had gone to sit on the grass under a tree at the park across the street from school with two of my friends. One was my best friend Gina, and the other was my new friend Beth. She had just moved here a month ago, and from the day we all met we had been inseparable.

          Today, like every other day that we hang out, they were chirping me about not getting this cute boy’s number. Gina and I have been best friends since birth, and she understands a little of my problems with boys, but not all of them seeing as I don’t even understand them all. I had once explained the extent of my boy experience to Beth, which consists of kissing my ex-boyfriend who cheated on me because he found me ‘too boring’. However, I had not told her that he also called me a b***h, and told me that I should do the world a favour and kill myself because my mom should have gotten an abortion. I never really got over the pain he caused me even though we only went out for a month. Neither of the girls took my annoyance seriously, mostly because I would laugh or blush at every comment they made, which I know happens to me whenever I’m centre of attention, or people are talking about me and a guy.

          I keep trying to explain to the girls that I have no desire to ask him for his number because I have no desire to be broken apart when he refuses. I may not be interested in the guy, but any form of rejection, no matter how small, takes a toll on my body and mind.

          The girls soon moved away from the boy topic and just started to poke fun at me for random things. They weren’t meaning to hurt me in any way, it’s just something we do, but with the two of them ganging up on me, they went a little overboard. The part that got to me the most was the time they mentioned me “having no friends” as a joke, but they’re right, aside from them I don’t really have any friends. The absolute worst though, was when I came back saying that I did have friends, but Gina was quick to counter it by saying that those friends don’t even like me; hearing her say that, it took everything in me not to break down. I kept telling myself that she was just kidding, but then my mind kept playing scenes of my other group of friends making fun of me for things I did; times where they would just embarrass me in public for fun.

          If Gina is right, that means that I have almost no friends, almost nobody who actually cares about me. I feel lonely enough in the world as it is, now realizing that I may have less people around me makes me feel completely, mind numbingly empty.

          I am now walking home, and all these things are hitting me hard. Though I am reminding myself in my head to breathe, it is not all that helpful seeing as tears are endlessly streaming down my face. The voice in my head whispering about how strong I am. How strong can I really be if I can’t take a few jokes? I’m nowhere near strong enough to face rejection. The thought of how people have called me a strong person makes my tears fall faster because it brings up past, painful memories. All these painful memories make me wonder how I am still alive today after the life I have lived. I know for a fact people around the world have lived through much worse than me, and that is a big reason that I am able to push through, a big reason I am still alive today. But am I really a strong person or am I just a delicate fool?

Author's Note

Just be honest and let me know what you think.