I'm your friend

Alone....

This world has its ways of showing its vastness,it's loneliness. I never interacted with anyone, was never given the chance. Even though I had large, perky breast, smooth skin, long, curly dark hair, toned figure, and a firm,but round ass, that's supposed to get you looks, and gazing stares that make boys swoon and girls flock to you. But I guess it's hard to tell when you don't walk around half naked. GOD I HATE MYSELF!! For even wanting that, for craving social acceptance, but I guess that's human right? Poor Clementine Rose wanting to be acknowledged by her peers. As if someone said that no one cared that I existed, no one knew I existed. Jocks, and perverted boys always had their comments "Nice rack, look at the ass on her" I was just a body, nothing more. You don't get it, I just know you don't, I craved the life you see in movies, tv, hell even a horror movie would have worked, something that showed me I'm more than a faceless body in a crowd. I hated being anywhere, school for very obvious reasons, but home, home was hell, no hell would've been better. My mother died when I was five, which left my father to take care of me, everything was ok for a while, we were still a family. He and I, had a bond, which felt unbreakable, but I soon began growing up, and things grew with me, and my father noticed this. I'll spare you the terrible details, but my bond with father ended the same day he started abusing me. It just doesn't wash off, no matter how many showers, how many baths, it doesn't wash off. As I got older I found the strength to fight back, so then the abuse evolved, adding physical to the equation. I used to hate it when teachers said no means no, cause sometimes no doesn't matter, then what? How do you think it made me feel to tell him no thinking that was it and it end up happening anyway? Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare feel sorry for me, I didn't tell you cause it didn't matter anymore I moved out. After three years of abuse I left, moved in with my aunt. She questioned me about my strange behavior and I told her everything, he's in jail now, but that still doesn't wash off. You try to forget about it, you try to move on, but it's hard when your 17, and your first time was with your father. But I had no one to talk to cause no one knew I was person, so I was alone, utterly, and completely alone. After a while I felt nothing anymore no sense of pain, sadness, anger, I just felt nothing. I took this as my acceptance of loneliness, my acceptance that I'm not in fact alive for any reason, but to be a body for men to drool over. Why? Why is life so cruel to some, but great to others? I never understood, friend, do you suppose that life chooses ones to break, just to show others how terrible it could be? Do you think that it's possible that life chooses victims at random to experiment on? Just to see how terrible events break a person? And if so why was I made a test subject? I'm pretty, I'm nice, or I try to be, but life had other plans for me, how unfair. I wanted you to know that my life, before you, was the most painful thing to me, just living was painful. But you, you made me feel I was human, I was alive. Honestly what more could you ask for in a person besides proof of existence, their acknowledgement of you is proof you're here, and even more so, you have value. I lived my life day to day without any morsel of care towards me. No one cared. I was ALONE, Completely alone. And I didn't want to be. I just wanted to be loved, cared for, and and seen for me, my aunt played like she did but, she just took me in to look good. I never felt like anyone actually cared or loved me. I felt so weak for wanting that, for feeling like I needed that, why couldn't I be strong and love myself, but it's hard to know what love is when you've never been shown. I don't remember much of my mother, I like to think she loved me, I like to believe she did. Cause I don't know what I would do if she didn't, it kept me somewhat grounded knowing someone loved me, and they still would, if they were alive. This letter, I guess can be my diary, I never had one, but since I'm giving myself to these pages, this can be my diary, delivered to your hands friend. This is a tangible, piece of my soul, my personality will be put throughout these pages. Friend I hope this has found you well, because I wanted to be for your eyes only. But anyway my backstory is over, moving on now, the next pages will be dedicated to the day, and days after, my life began. And this was because of you, you made my life what it was, and shaped me into who I am.

P.S. I have this reoccurring dream that feels like a memory, I'm at a lake and I step onto the water and begin to walk, it seems as if it stretches endlessly sun rays drip down between the leaves on the trees surrounding me, as I continue walking birds begin to sing songs of sweet melodic tones all around me I was at peace, but only in my dreams.....