Draft...take two!

I watch the snowflakes float past my window. They glitter as the hit the cold, empty ground and I think about how each one is different. They all look the same from here, and it occurs to me that I think the same of the people in my life. 1

My head rest on the windowpanes, and the cold glass is pressed to my cheek but I don’t mind. The cold numbs me. It’s a natural form of painkillers, this searing ice. It numbs the pain that seems to rip me to shreds every day.2

I wrap my arms closer around my sides and wish I had turned out the light in my room. The glare bounds off the glass and reflects back to me. I can see myself reflected in the cold, black glass. I can see the whiteness of my cheeks, the dark pools of green that are my eyes, and I wish I could wipe the image away.3

I am not sure what I am looking for as I sit here, inspiration maybe. My homework sits on my desk, but I don’t feel like being analytical, logical right now. I’m not in the mood to sit down and do work that I detest, let alone want to do. 4

I think I expected this year to be different. I don’t know what exactly it was that I expected to change. Maybe it was that I had hoped everyone had decided to grow up a little and mature, but that didn’t happen. Maybe I hoped that I would be happy and I laugh thinking about it.5

My laughter sounds hollow, like a glass bottle that echoes when you blow across the top. I can’t remember the last time it was that I actually laughed at something. More and more, it’s just this fake giggle that makes everyone look at me like they know I am lying. I wonder if it’s possible to lie about laughing. I wonder if it’s possible to lie about living.6

I do not know what I want from this life, or what I need. I feel so alone sometimes, and yet I know that other have walked this path, that others have felt the pain I feel inside when I cannot cry, when all I can do is smile and hope nobody can read the pain that I know is so easily readable on my face.7

This is when I hate that I can be read so easily. This is when I hate that I am such an open person, that everyone knows what I am feeling, even when I want to be alone. 8

I find that my musings have left me calmer, that I can breath again. The tension that I felt during the day has somewhat melted away in my words. I still hold apprehension and fear about many things, but I know that I can go to sleep tonight somewhat emptier. I never know if being empty is a good thing or a bad thing, but many nights I lay awake wishing I could write it all down and I never do, because in a house full of secrets and lies, there is no privacy and everyone is a spy.9

I have found that accepting things as they are is easier than trying to change what I know I cannot. I feel that I cannot change whom I am, nor can I change my circumstances in life. I have been given what I have, and yet I find myself yearning for something different.10