Something I just realized is that I’m not exactly who I seem to be. I mean I am but not entirely. It’s like I am made of layers. Like a jawbreaker, not an onion or a birthday cake or anything else. A jawbreaker. Because it takes time and stress and force to get through one layer to get to the next. The first is the normal me, the funny (sometimes), (usually) happy, me. The second is less so, it’s the area of me that I like to pretend doesn’t exist, the one that’s full of anger issues and hate that I really really hate about myself. The third is the center, the final layer, the one where, on a jawbreaker, it’s just one last bite before it crumbled into dust, the part of me that’s been there since I was seven. When my best friend disappeared from my life all at once. Just one day he was there, and the next he was gone. He moved. He never called to try and get together or even just to talk, even after he swore he would. When I broke. When I felt like no one wanted me around anymore. I felt like my best friend had left just to get away from me. And from that moment on, I felt scared and alone inside. And some days it still hurts. And over the years I made new friends, met new people, and I felt normal for a long time, but it was still there, but then they left too. And I made new friends. And then they left. The same situation. Even after everything, even after I made sure they knew how they could talk to me if they wanted. I even tried to talk to them. And it was like they were actively trying to avoid me. And it hurt. It still hurts. But I don’t feel alone anymore. Because I have her now. And I hope she won’t leave because I can’t take that. I can’t take that again. Especially not from her. And I’m not scared anymore either. Well, not for the same reasons. Now I’m just afraid for her. I’m always afraid that something will happen to her, because I can’t let that happen. Ever. Because I love her.