The first time I ever cried for a fathomable reason was when I was eight.
That's when I started to be aware of my own existence.
The first time I was ever pulled into drama was when I was in fifth grade.
The time I started to make fun of people was when I was in sixth.
The only time I ever had great friends was seventh grade.
That was also the year I turned shy.
Me, there's so many things I haven't done; you would be surprised.
Truthfully, I've barely lived.
You know nothing about me.
I'm putting myself out there for you, yourself, only to be pushed back in by you, yourself.
I speak to you, you know who you are.
Or perhaps you don't.
Perhaps because I don't even speak to you.
Or perhaps you don't even exist.