this is very old. i just found it. loosly based on my life. so enjoy and tell me what you think.

All my life I have wanted to be something I’m not. When I was younger I wanted to be an orphan, like the Boxcar Children. In middle school I wanted to be rich, like my best friend, or to be able to draw like my other best friend. In my freshman year I just wanted a boyfriend and to sleep over at my new best friends house. Now I’m a sophomore and all I want to be is, anything but what I am today.

So I dream about it, a poor substitute I might add. Because, you see, the problem with dreams is you wake up from them and reality is never as good.

With my range of imagination I always wanted to be a writer, but my life was to boring and I was too inexperienced to write about anything else. So instead I stopped writing and took up acting. But I was shy and I hated auditions, besides at my high school the drama crew was pretty tight. I eventually joined the newspaper and became the feature editor. But I’m not the best news writer and I’d much rather make it up. So that brings me to now.

Now I don’t know what I am. I know I’m 15 and that on December 1, 2004 I’ll get my permit, unless my dad throws a fit. I know that my hair is brown and too long, but that I can’t cut it until after volleyball season. I know that my contacts make my eyes hurt and that I need a stronger prescription. I also know that the cookies I put in are done, because the timer went off about five minutes ago. And I also know that while my weight is fine I’ll feel guilty about eating these cookies because I feel fat.

That’s what I know today but what I learned about a week ago is even more interesting. I learned it from Karyn, or Karin. I can’t remember. Well anyway it started at lunch. Which is where I sit with Karina to my right, Karin to my left, Keera right across from me, Chris to her left and Lihn to her right. I was talking to Karin about Chris, it was homecoming week so he was away being counted for having school spirit, which is something I lack.

Well back to my story; I’d known Chris liked me for awhile. While I’d had no proof I could feel it. I mean he gave me a valentine’s day gift, a birthday gift and sent me a card on Christmas. But that was last year, this year we just talked a lot, all the time...about a lot of different things. So I was pumping Karin for information on who Chris really liked. And she wouldn’t tell me and wouldn’t tell me. But I finally I was like.

“I think it’s me, but I don’t know for sure.”

“You’re right, it’s you,” she said. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Of course not. Why does he like me and how do you know?” I asked. Because you see I’m vain and I love to know what people think about me.

“Well he told me, we talk about a lot of stuff,” she sort of paused, well she might have been about to go on but I interrupted her.

“But what does he like about me?” see what I mean about self-centered.

“Well when I asked him he started listing everything, your face, your body, you know everything,” she looked me up and down as she said that, I got the message.

Well normally this would be good news, after all Chris and I get along and we became friends under a very shaky thing. You see I had a crush on his best friend. And it would have worked out but along came this pudgy girl who, well, now I see is a lot more Andrew’s type then I am or ever was. But how I loved him, because it was love, I think. I used to dream about him.

The dream was we were walking home from school, going toward my house when I stopped to pick a flower. When I stood back up he grabbed me and kissed me so sweet that my knees bent and he had to hold me tight against him until I could stand again. See back then I’d never been kissed, so I wasn’t quite sure how it went, the whole kissing thing. But back to Chris.

Well a few days before that or a few days after, I’m not sure, I was baby-sitting. Well the kids had finally gone to bed, not to sleep but to bed. Chris called my phone, yea I have a cell phone an ugly one but it is mine. We talked for hours, well like an hour and a half, but it was great. We talked about his life and his mom and my life and how my dad is really my step-dad and how I have no desire to find out who my real dad is. How his dad left his mom, so he doesn’t care either. Then we made plans for homecoming. I’d get all dressed up and go to the dance. But instead of actually going in I’d wait outside and he’d come pick me up and we’d walk back to his house. There I’m not quite sure what we’d do but in the end he’d get me back to the school by 11:30.

Well it never happened, and I was quite upset, you see I always want to do something spontaneous. For some reason though, I never do. Except once. Just a week or so ago. Long after homecoming. My friend Emily and I decided to skip youth and go to Starbucks. So this guy from our church, Buddy and this other guy Cedric drove us. It was fun, but I would rather have been with Chris.