The name I was given at birth. Cute. Sweet. For the perfect child.
Maria.
My parents were hard-working. I never wanted for much but I wasn't given a silver spoon either. For the first five years, it was just me. I was a happy child. God, I miss those days. I mean I'm still happy but there's something different about that adolescence happiness. I remember playing in the backyard and scrapping my knees. I just stared at them. My mom was panicked but I just remember looking at the wound intently. When my mom finally picked me up the tears started to fall. But I don't remember it being from pain.
I had plenty of friends. Or maybe just acquaintances? I don't remember ever getting to really know them. But how much do you really know yourself at four years old? My parents were happy I wasn't antisocial. Friends are important to build your future, they'd always say. I remember sometimes I would study other people. What made them smile? What made them mad? What made them cry? I mean I could do those things on my own but my timing was never the best.
It sounds funny talking about something so far away. I wasn't alone for very long. Real friends stopped being important but I still had a few. I had my own built-in friends.
Closer to my sixth birthday I met a new friend. I think fondly about it now but the circumstances weren't the best.
YOU ARE READING
Me, Myself, Her, Him, They, and I
Random"Alright, Mrs. Garner I'd like you to start from the beginning. If you could start with the first personality that you met and continue from there."
