A Memory(But Don't I Always?)

I lied.
You know, looking back on this- I said I created it to tell people about the real me. And I have to wonder who that is, or if I even knew when I made this in the first place. I'm not sure if this is the real me right here, but the person I've been...I don't even know about that. I feel like it's been so long since I was here, that it was a different me writing all these words. A different person, one who had nothing to do with me.
One who was happy and carefree, and had troubles like any other girl, but it's confusing, you know? Because of course, it was me, a younger me, but still me. It just doesn't feel like it. I don't know what 'me' feels like anymore. I don't know anything anymore. And it really kind of sucks. Like, really. I'm so fucking lost, and confused, and angry, and ... just plain tired. I'm tired of so much, I'm tired of everything. Though, no one knows that, do they? Nope. And I don't plan on telling any time soon, either. It's my secret, my little secret locked up tight in a deep dark room, and hopefully no one will ever find it out.
Because then come the questions, and I'll just have to lie until they run out. Wouldn't wanna do that, would I? 'Course not. You know what I want to do? I want to run. I'm not one of those people who would suicide, because for all I know death wouldn't even help anything. No, what I want is to leave- to run, get away, and never come back. Leave everything I've ever known and start all over, because then maybe things will be right. I'd go to a place where people are full of insecurities. Where they're scared all the time, and hide in the dark because when it's dark is the only time they can't see you crying. The rain won't hide it, tears are always warmer than rain(believe me). And the sun won't hide it, it just makes them sparkle, as the moonlight and starlight make them glow a bright silver.
No.
Only the dark.
It's only ever the dark will make you invisible. It will take nothing away, it will fix nothing. I know that- the only thing it will do is make you stronger as it makes you more vulnerable. As most things do. Have you ever wondered why you loved someone? I have, quite often. I have to wonder why I love who I do, because when I think about it, it just doesn't fit. Y'know? It always seemed to me that there was no room for love in my life, even though I've had plenty of it. The thing is- I shouldn't love him. I know he doesn't love me(hell, I don't even know if it is love- I'm young, I shouldn't be in love.), and he somehow wormed his way inside. Now he won't leave and I can't get him out, not that I believe I want to anyway. he could break me so easily, so, so badly if he wanted to. And he probably doesn't even realize it, not that I would ever tell him.
I, most of the time, wish I was living someone else's life. That whole 'grass is always greener' complex. Because it really does seem tempted. But if you look closely, the grass isn't greener. Just as it isn't less green.
They're all uniform and even, perfectly symmetrical to the next and the previous, so it's no use from moving from where you are. You'll only regret it. Just like switching lanes in traffic- as soon as you do, the line you were just in speeds up and leaves you alone, wherever you moved to. And you can just imagine what people are thinking('poor girl, shouldn't have moved, should she.'), sure they have some sympathy, but what can that help? Sympathy it useless a lot of the time. I was looking at a picture a while ago. Me with a bunch of my friends, a close up, and I could see my eyes. They looked to be this odd light brown color just then, and they were sparkling(the sun was shining right in them). And then I looked in the mirror, and I looked closely into my eyes. Florescent lights show you the truth. My eyes got dark- startlingly more than I thought they were.
It was weird, how different they looked. And then I tried to smile(like, actually really smile) and wound up crying instead. Which is just kind of horrible, really. I can only smile when I'm around other people, once I have my mask on, guards up. And even then, it's too much and overly bright and very, very rarely real. But that's all I can do. I love my friends, even if I can't tell any of them about this. I love how they're friends with me in the first place, and how I can talk to them about other things not like this, and how I can pretend that I'm normal with them. I can pretend I have all the problems that they do, the ones that I'm supposed to have as opposed to the ones I do have. I really do love them, they make me almost happy and that's just awesome to me. Some of them know just what to say, and some of them don't even have to say anything at all. I love going to some of their houses(certain people) because it just feels nice. They have homey houses, and it makes me actually feel good to be in a home.
It's not really like my house, which is mostly not a home to me(it's shadowy, the ultimate shade of grey in which there are rules and yet none at all, and it's almost like Wonderland because you have to tiptoe around other people in the middle of the day and nothing's ever the same twice, and honestly is all a jumble of mixed up sad stories that all came together right there and you have to watch what you say lest you say the wrong thing and then all hell breaks loose)which might explain why I'm always getting so attached to other places. Most of these feelings, I use for writing, anyway. It's not like I cut or something, I'm not into pain. Just being happy, and people reading my stuff and reviewing it, makes me happy.
I still do fanfiction, that's where all my writing goes- http://www.fanfiction.net/~grimmgurl4lyf3. I'm on there, account, reviews and everything. And I do guess that makes me happy. Well, only stories really. Poems and things, I mostly keep to myself these days. Myself and friends, anyway. I still immerse myself in my music, because it just feels good. It relaxes me, as much as I ever am really relaxed anyway. I should be asleep. I should be, well I should be a lot of things that I'm not. Sometimes I wish I was what I'm supposed to be, but then I realize that I wouldn't be me if I was. Not even close, so I guess I'm glad.
When I really think about it like that, I guess I could say I'm glad to be me. But then, I don't think about it like that very often, not at all. Either way, I said before that I made this to show people the real me, but as I don't even know who that is(and if I ever did, all it is now, is a distant memory), I guess all you could say is that...
I lied.
But when it comes to that ... don't I always?

With Cautious Love,

Bryanna. x3