PROLOGUE

I don't know why I'm writing to you, but it's partly because I have no one else to talk to, and partly because I don't want anyone I know personally to think that I'm just some crazy teenager who should undoubtedly be locked up in a loony-bin. I'm not crazy, and if I am, then that's news to me. I don't believe that having bad thoughts makes you crazy or weird. I think it makes you normal. Everyone around me pretends to be happy, and I doubt that everyone is really that happy, but I can't be a hyprocrite. I can effortlessly fool everyone, too. It's easy to walk around every day and smile like it's the only thing you know how to do. It's easy to say "I'm great, how are you?" And I know that a lot of the time, people really aren't great. People actually feel really miserable. But we all have our secrets, don't we? So instead of telling people we feel like s**t, we lie and say we're perfectly fine. I guess people do this because they might believe it themselves after pretending to be happy for so long. Sometimes, I even fool myself. And then I fall back into reality. 

And reality sucks, but I'm sure that you knew that already. People might pretend to be happy, but I'd like to think that no one has to pretend to be sad. I don't know why anyone would want to. Being sad sucks. A lot of people in my town think that only attention-seekers show that they're upset. I have to say that they're all full of s**t, because if you're sad, you're sad. It's not going to disappear just because you're in public, and it doesn't mean that you want attention just because you're not hiding it. You're just sad. And you're going to deal with that sadness however you want to. People shouldn't say anything about it because it's your life and if you want to go out and not feel the need to pretend you're happy every damn second of the day, good for you. I couldn't do it. I'm just a weak kid who has to pretend that everything is always perfect. And for some reason, I guess a part of me actually cares what people think of me. Complete strangers, even. Yet I'm not all too sure why, because I honestly hate everybody. That's the other part of me, the part that doesn't care whatsoever. That's life, isn't it? There are two sides to everything. Every life. Every story.

I know that you don't know me, and you probably don't care about my life or my problems. I don't blame you. But I have no one else to go to. And at least I'll know that if you're still reading this, you care at least a little, tiny bit about my fucked up life. And I thank you for that. It's kind of s****y to unload my problems on you, I know. And I'm sorry, I truly am. But I need you right now. I need you to be a friend. And I need you to promise me that no matter what happens, you will stick by my side.

Reviews

[janiksxxl]

I'll look into what you have to say a bit more to say something more about how it goes, but at the moment I can't really say anything as the emotional background added to every word is hitting me off balance and doesn't feel like fiction – either it is not or you are pretty good at faking it, and I would go for first pretty sure. And at the moment I have a question, I yet have no answer, so gonna wait what follows.