What If

Red hair, Blue eyes, 238 pounds, The girl who hides behind the words of a story or a poem, The only thing she's even remotely good at. So many hopes and dreams about what will happen in the future. She's a senior in high school, Still just a swaddling infant in the vast universe of reality. She sits and asks herself Why she was born into a loving family, But struggles with depression everyday of her life. Why she's forced to fight bad thoughts whenever she thinks Or why she cry's when she's alone. Alone is how she constantly feels. Alone because everyone around her has someone, But her. She has had relationships But because she's been hurt so many times, She lacks the ability to truly connect. She's terrified that this fact is going to condemn her To being alone for the rest of her life, or if she'll lose friends Because she continuously messes up. Messes up because she doesn't want to get to close to someone, because they might leave. Leave when they hear her story. The story that is her pathetic life. She had a short childhood, She grew up to quickly. People tell her "Stop acting like an adult, You're just a child" But they don't understand that she has had to deal with more strenuous things than most adults. If they knew, they would know what to say Except for the age old cliché "Everything is going to be ok" But no one knows if that is the case Nobody can know It's not the way the world works. You have to be prepared for any, and everything. Because there is no guarantee in this world. But, perhaps she wouldn't feel this way if she had The glorified American childhood. But how would we ever know? We have no ability to turn back time, Or go fast forward to the happiest time, When everything fits, If it ever does. But the human race does have the ability of hope. And it comes in many different packages, To me it's writing For others it may be different But the one thing we can all agree on is that It helps in our time of need.