A/N: Sorry for lack of update on GSM, but I have a serious amount of school and orchestra going on. This is just another one of my short stories that come out when I'm bored in class. So thank you for being paitent and for reading this if you decide to! It means more than you know. Thank you

-smileys for all-

This story is me. 100 percent.

I don't count as a girl. It's a known fact among my friends, boys and girls alike. Don't misunderstand, I'm not the ultimate tomboy there ever was, I in fact love to dress up in skirts and dresses. Some of my friends who are even considered actual, legitimate girls blanch every time I even suggest forcing them into one. But still I don't count. Pretty things are nice, but not my obsession. I could care less about make up and designers. But that still doesn't cancel me out of the girl category.

No the only reason I'm not a girl, the only reason boys don't fawn all over me and lean in for a kiss is because I'm the Friend. Friends have no gender. They are the mediators, the matchmakers, the healers of broken hearts, and they never, never fall in love. It's against all of the unspoken rules that seem to bound people tighter than the federal law.

I chose this path long before I understood the consequences of it all. A broken heart and long lonely nights with my favorite cow flavored ice cream. I was just trying to be nice, helping my best friends solve all their lives difficulties while ignoring whatever possible drama life threw my way. I just tossed it aside saying I had better things to do than mess with my own life. So my entire being seemed to grow bland having only the spice that slopped over from my friends' crazy, beautiful worlds, trying to soak up their zest, breath it in vicariously. Lack of jumping into life while I was still young caused me to stall and after that it was too late. I was stuck in the permanent friend zone by my own demise.

I was so used to it though, I didn't really mind. I just went along with it. Not caring much about it. I thought I would be forever content as long as I kept my friends and their drama in check. I thought it was the natural order of things. I thought it almost selfish of me to even dream that my life was bright and overflowing like theirs.

But then disaster struck. For the first time in my life I wanted someone so much I couldn't stand it. For the first time in my life I felt like I was breathing fresh air. My stalled gear was starting to shift and no one was there to step on the brake. So I fell, crashed haphazardly into it, life, painfully blinding realization, him. I felt defective, like something had been missing in me sense birth and someone had just found the piece. I hated being fixed. I didn't want this sick cure because I was still forever stuck as the Friend. An awful Friend to him and to my friends who liked him because I fell in love.

I wanted to die.

Every time I saw him smile at them, I wanted to hang myself. It became only worse when that smile was directed at me. Ever shining and tilted, my insides were torn to pieces and my heart was shredded and flushed down the toilet.

My reason for remaining sane flew out the window and there I was, still, just the Friend. Always and forever trapped as the Friend. No more and on many occasions, much, much less.