Reality Killed My Youth

I am not the twelve year old girl who was new to town and still recovering from the tore in her family. I’m not still sitting silently in the corner, reading book after book, while the people around me chatter.

I am not the thirteen year old girl who followed you around like a puppy because you were my only friend. I’m not still trying to fit in with your trashy friends and swapping O’Henry stories with my English teacher.

I’m not the fourteen year old girl who was teacher’s pet, grading all of my classmate’s essays for our teacher. I’m not the girl slowly emerging from her shell, making friends, and making her personality known.

I’m not the fifteen year old girl who was in love with you. The girl who finally found a boy who knew what she was talking about. I now know you aren’t the person I thought you were, and I’m definitely not the girl you think I am.

I’m not the sixteen year old girl friends with the chubby girl, oblivious to the weird love triangle I was caught in. I’m not the girl hearing all the rumors and lies anymore.

I’m not the seventeen year old girl sitting silently again. Introverting back into her old ways.

I’m not the eighteen year old girl putting up with your mental, emotional, and physical abuse still. I’m not still dealing with you just out of happiness that someone actually took the time to get to know me and call me theirs. I know now you were never really listening.

I’m not the nineteen year old girl living in a daze having dumped her loser boyfriend, disowned her abusive grandparents, and finally telling off that asshole who hurt me and my mom for so long. I’m not that girl sobbing these inhuman sounds in the ER as my father crushes me in his embrace when the only embrace I wanted was that of my mother. I’m not the girl dealing with the coroner and the funeral home and attempting to still function.

I am not any of those girls anymore.

Today I am twenty year old, Kristin. I hold two jobs and do some online coursework. I escape from my house as much as I possibly can even if it means camping out in a parking lot somewhere. I basically live at Subway as it has been more of a home to me than anywhere this past year. I see my friends and help them through their struggles. I laugh at all the horny guys who think they’re going to get something from me. I stay up late into the night battling my insomnia, playing music, and writing a memoir.

Today I am Kristin. And I’m just gathering my strength and waiting for the next obstacle I’ll have to face.