In my world the rain falls up...

None of my friends, especially my boy friend, seem to understand why I hate crying. None of my friends know just what my childhood was like either, especially my boyfriend.

I'm not going to say that I led a bad childhood. I was just mentally older than I really was, and had to work to make our family work. I had divorced parents that hated each other, and still do; along with an angry, falling apart step father. My step siblings were hardcore rebels, and only one of them made it out of highschool without children and a diploma. My blood siblings, Nick and April, were prodigies. Straight "A's" with driving licenses and college degrees.
Then there's me. A good, unhealthy mixture of the two parts of the family. A rebel with good intentions and no motivation. Guess that's what I get for being the middle child with a sick sense of humor and style. I saw that the older siblings got away with ALOT, and the younger two get ALOT. I guess that's where my jealousy issues first came from. Here's a secret for you: try going through elementry school as a bi sexual. Not easy. Especially when your best friend and girl friend rely souly on your parents to see each other. Once Jamies parents and mine got in one single fight, we never saw each other again. It's been six years. I'm not like that now, though.

I've always had a few friends that I've had that really stick with me though. Even if we never see each other anymore. Heather and John for instance. I love those two hardcore. I never see Heather anymore, and John only calls me when he's out in the middle of nowhere being a designated driver for his minor friends. Then he'll call me at 11pm and we'll talk until the sun comes up. Those are the best conversations ever. I could tell anything to Heather. I met Heather in Preschool, then when I switched to Auburn Elementry for grade school, we temporarily lost contact, until a Girl Scout convention brought us back together. Then our friendship was like a wild fire. We only talk through email and never look each other in the eyes when we do meet...we know too much.

Growing up in Auburn...was great. It taught me that I don't need alot of people, or things, to be happy. I took little things forgranted, even though I never abused the privledge. I LOVED waking up at 9:30 am just to jump into our pool at 10am. I LOVED running through the cornfield and traspassing onto the farmers property. I LOVED being able to ride my bike the speed limit and play with the neighbors. Drive their go-cart, climb their tree, play hide and seek, pet the cats, tease the dogs, catch frogs, corner squirrels, and most of all, I loved the freedom that I had. I was always blissfully unaware. Unaware of my parents monetary issues, unaware that I did something illegal or beating the crap out of a kid was bad. Unaware that my world was about to completely change. Forever.

I can still remember crying in my old bedroom, angrily packing my belongings, then Matthew would come up and put his hands on my shoulders, promising to make things better. But in the end, that all we have, isn't it? Promises. Ten years ago, I had the sun in the sky, and the world at my feet; and now, I have promises: kept, broken, and in process of being broken...

What People don't know is that I actually cry alot. Sometimes, at night when I can't sleep, I'll cry for no apparent reason. I'll literally cry myself to sleep. And I don't tell anyone, no one needs to know, they can't help. Why would they? Right, because they care. To them, for all they know, I'm stronger than that, so they don't have to worry. They don't have to care. Because all they know is that I don't cry. My tears never fall down, they only fly up to my mind where they gather and create a wall. This is how I see things now. Rather depressing that I once thought anything was possible and now I feel useless in almost every manner.

Every manner except for you...