I’m happy to say I was at some point in my life sane, well kinda. I was cold, uncaring and unemotional. Sorta. I built those walls every angst-filled teenage song/movie/book etc. is full of. I OWNED those f***ing walls. Until him. That stupid bastard. He dated my best friend. One of them, anyway. I am allowed more than one, although my true best friend will forever remain the same. She’s tall, pale brown hair, clear skin, pretty, skinny. Completely boob-less of course. Which just makes her somehow even prettier. I’m short…er than her, heavier not icky fat though, with dark hair, heavy eyebrows, a permanent glare and a bad attitude. For the most part. She’s sweet, a wonderful person, good in and out. Not scar-less or from a smooth childhood, but we all seem to have come from somewhere broken. Anyhow, she started going out with this guy at the very end of our freshman year, but don’t let chronological age deter you, I doubt any of my friends or I have been teens or children, for a long, long time. I hated him at first, he was a change in the routine, took attention I was normally preening under and had it. He also kept mentioning my mother. Telling me I was just like her. Hard to hear and even harder to deal with when the last thing you wanna be like is her. He pissed me off a lot, my knee jerk reactions started and the sarcasm and vindictive saying shot out. I’m not perfect, I’ve fought too hard for too long to just accept that.

School came around again, sophomore year, a new world of opportunities. For me? A new home. My bestest friend? A new house, and a new world to settle into. For my best friend forever called the krazy Russian, a new school a new social hierarchy to learn. We all started out as…friends, not close but there. Then we started hanging out, me my bestest friend, and my best friend’s current boyfriend forever called Bonepart. Bonepart, my bestest friend and I, a trio on a adventure, one that changed constantly. Was still changing when what I feared most happened. My mother called me, and foolishly, I answered it. What she said was so hurtful caused so much pain I was literally curling inward, attempting to sink into the driver’s seat of my blazer, hyperventilating as I tried to reason with someone who could not be reasoned with. She accused me of a lot that day. And I couldn’t handle it. I burst out into tears. Ugly, snotty, shaky tears and then Bonepart in a fit of humanism and aw you need a hug that he’s so good at wrapped me in a hug. Taking care of people, that’s his vice. And he held me while I sobbed and told me it was alright to cry, something I’d never heard from a person before. And all of a sudden, seemingly without effort something inside of me collapsed, at the time I couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was my walls. They fell that day. And I still can’t built the f***ers back up, damn Bonepart! I fell for him too, naturally, you can’t just break down someone’s walls unknowingly or not and there not be consequences.