A/N: I thank you for just reading. Sometimes it is easier to tell strangers about our problems than it is family or friends. So thank you for reading, and I apologize if I come over angsty or annoying.

Most people I meet tell me, “Oh, I thought you were older.” Mom attributes it to how I “carry myself” like an adult. I kinda think it’s because of my face.

A face that’s been worn by so many years of being beaten down by others, of regrets, of losing that which is most dear, of accepting the fact that I don’t belong.

I try. I really do. I try not to seem like some sort of stupid, angsty teenager who hates life. And I’m not, really. I try not to provoke people; I try not to get involved when my sisters fight. I try not to be a tactless bitch. But I am at times. And for that, I am sorry.

I read and understood Shakespeare at the age of 5. Based on tests taken in 7th grade, I have a reading level greater than that of most college freshman. I took college math in the 8th and 9th grades. I am currently 6th in my high school class of 450. I have helped unofficially tutor students who are older than me. I have received high scores on my AP exams- a 5 (the maximum grade) in Calculus AB while in my sophomore year of high school!

I could debate for hours on most subjects there are. Talk endlessly about politics. But once you bring in emotions- girls chatting about the cutest boys and crushes they have, teenagers mourning the early loss of their cousin, movie characters becoming embarrassed due to saying something stupid or cheesy around their future “true love”- I cannot handle it.

I have the emotional maturity of a young child.

I am always concerned that I’ve said the wrong thing. Guilt never goes away with me; I still feel stupid for accidentally writing some nonsense in some official church registry thing when I was seven years old. I haven’t gotten over the first boy I asked out- even after seven months of no contact with him. I am an introverted extrovert because I am truly and deeply scared that I will say something stupid around people I don’t know and further ostracize myself from most social occurrences. It is altogether possible that I am the only one ever who has not been able to assimilate themselves into their high school drama club- often known as the most loving and accepting group in all of high school or college.

When I think of my friends, the ones I can go to about any problem I have or have ever had, I can name three- two of whom I never hang out with, the other moving away shortly. It’s because I don’t show people this side of myself. I have such an intricately built brick wall, built so high as to almost block out the sun, that simultaneously protects me from most hurts and shields me from ever gaining that sort of friendship ever again. And I don’t think it’s coming down any time soon- last time it did, seven months ago, I was emotionally shattered with only my partially breached wall to protect me as I attempted to put the pieces together.

The wall has protected me on occasion, although the eternal guilt thing comes up as well. A year ago, my cousin died and my father and sisters fell apart. My mother hid her sadness because someone had to keep our family going. I didn’t have any in the first place. It seems stupid. Granted, I hadn’t spoken to my cousin in around 8 years. But when everyone else has had their time of mourning, and I keep on moving through as if nothing has happened, something has to be off emotionally. I know I should be sad. I know I should have cried for him. I know I should feel bad that he died. I know I should feel sorry for my uncle and aunt, and my grandparents, for their loss. But it just has never occurred to me. It hasn’t yet hit me.

Damn that wall. Damn it for existing.

I am so, so sorry. Sorry that I can’t distinguish when I’ve said something bad. Sorry that I cannot feel for the losses of others. Sorry that I cannot feel for my own loss, aside from my selfish high school crushes. Sorry that I have ruined so many friendships for my own pseudo-happiness and guilt. So very sorry that I am so broken. And especially sorry that that damned wall has made it impossible for anyone to come in and help me.

I really, really wish that we could start all over.