Dear Nobody (3 page)

Dear Nobody,

After I finally got out of the wheelchair and started getting better—the weirdest thing happened: I started getting
bitter
. Sometimes, getting better can be rather depressing. It can be really confusing. People tell you so much bullshit when you're sick. They elevate you and make you feel like a saint. I can't really explain how it feels to be in everyone's prayers and good thoughts. How it feels to be some fundraiser or charity mascot—to be liked by people because I'm the sick girl. But as soon as you're better—the charities move on and your place on everyone's prayer list gets lower and lower, until you're off the list, completely.

Dear Nobody,

Have you ever heard someone say, “I can get through anything as long as I've got my friends?” Well, could they get through NOT having any friends?

I am really having a problem living through this. I mean, I'm not in crisis or anything, but sometimes I feel close to it. I am so desperate, and can only hope it is not evident to the people I am trying to befriend. I mean, I've met some friendly enough people, but no one has “taken me under their wing” (so to speak). It'd be my dream come true if I met a really friendly girl that wanted me to hang out with her, or even just wanted my phone number. I mean, this must be the hundredth Friday I haven't had any plans.

Man, it never used to be like this. Are friends really that hard to come by? I mean, shit; anyone else who moved here would probably have friends by now. This keeps eating away at my self-esteem, and I feel like shit. And that only makes it harder to make friends. What am I supposed to be getting out of this experience?

I am a loser. A natural-born loser. Well, at least lately.

I need to stop obsessing over this. It's ruining me. Not my life—I don't have one.

Dear Nobody,

Well, I'm still bored here. Oh, I'm a little more used to it, and I am starting to like the nature around here, but the people still seem so dull. All the kids here hang out at the rope swing, even though it's too cold to go swimming yet. The kids I meet there (that I'm interested in) don't seem very interested in me for long, or if they are, I guess they can't show it. There are some cute guys my age that like me, but they're really not all that great. I did really like this one guy, Jonathan, but maybe I came across too weirdly. We did PCP in his white truck, and he was talking to me, but my answers were few and far between (probably because I was SO HIGH). I did ask him if he wanted my number, but there was no pen. I offered to get one, but he was in a hurry to go.

At first I really liked his buddy, Zack. He seemed like more of an intellectual (pretty cute, too), but even when he was high he still barely spoke to me. And when he was leaving, he never said anything like, “hope to see you again sometime” or some shit like that—but then again, neither did Jonathan.

Maybe my good looks intimidate them.

I still crush a little for this Zack, but I really CRUSH on Jonathan now. But man, I'd be cool with ANYONE cute, or nice, and who liked me—but I'd really like it to be Jonathan. I hope it's nice out tomorrow so I might see him again.

Dear Nobody,

Last night, I got FUCKED UP with my mom and Joe. I might have tried to call someone that I don't know very well, but don't remember it, so I don't care. I woke up with a horrible stomachache from drinking so much. Eventually I went to the rope swing, and saw Jonathan. We smoked a bowl and I tried to talk to him. He was polite, but seemed distant. In fact he was kind of rude to me—still, I'm hoping he'll be there tomorrow.

Zack was there alone today, like me. Maybe he gets really lonely, too. He had to leave right away, so I couldn't talk to him as much as I would have liked. I really hate this—mentally and subconsciously pleading for friendship or a companion. It's not at all flattering to my ego—which, by the way, would have rejected even the CONCEPT of kissing ass for friends a few months ago. Zack left without saying goodbye—but who gives a fuck?

Drugs are my best friend now; but my lungs really shouldn't be around all of this smoke.

I trade pieces of my body—for pieces of my mind.

Dear Nobody,

The more unhappy I am, the more I want to drink, and right now I REALLY WANT TO DRINK! I'd love some dust or acid right now, or even some 'shrooms. I've been gaining a lot of weight from drinking so much beer—and getting the munchies from all the weed. I must have gained six or seven pounds, but that's okay, it makes me look healthier.

The kids I got high with at the rope swing today were pretty friendly. When Jonathan got ready to leave, he said, “I'll probably see you around this weekend.” That's the closest thing I've got to an invitation in months. Being social is hard when you're shy; but now I'm at the point where I JUST DON'T CARE. Oh, I still speak with immense caution, but at least I speak now. What has happened to me? I used to be so free, so open and so expressive.
Why doesn't the world act like it knows me?

Dear Nobody,

I didn't see you-know-who today (Jonathan) even though it was pretty nice out. I think I got a little more tan. Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be nice. Maybe more people will be at the rope swing. Maybe I could even get fucked up for free, since mom's stash is still at her friend Jane's house.

I really don't understand any of this. I'm so pretty and even kind of smart (a genius around here, compared to these people) and still I have no boyfriend. Or even an intelligent, mature, pretty female friend. Oh, the stupid boys around here follow me around like little puppy dogs, but none of them with a car, or are intelligent or attractive. It's hard to meet guys like that though. I've been trying since I got here. I'll keep trying until I meet some. And not just a player, either—a nice guy inside.

I'm not stupid, I'm not ugly. I've got to get to the point where I've got no shyness, just reverence. Shyness is ridiculous. Most defense mechanisms are. I guess I've just got to be patient. Things will work out for me. Someone ALWAYS comes along—I've just got to give it time.

Damn, I really wish mom had that pot now. It just takes the edge off, without making me too wild, or too weirded-out.

Dear Nobody,

Trying to make good friends in a new place is one of the hardest things to do, especially for me. I mean, first off, consider how I don't HAVE any friends to make me feel good. Then there's the issue of always having to remember to never be anything less than pleasant, and to be really nice to everyone.

Then there's the matter of not coming on too strong; not to mention having to remember to always pay attention and be polite when the other person speaks—and never put down their opinion. Even if they are a little mean, or rude, pretend not to notice—be even
nicer
to the ones like that.

Always look good. Dress right. Laugh right.

Always mention the deepness of my voice so that they know I know what or who I sound like already (thank you very much). Remember not to put myself down, so they don't think I've got low self-respect, because then they would get low respect for me (even if I WAS just joking).

When getting high, always remember mom—
AND HOW ANNOYING SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE IS HIGH
—and engrave it into my brain NOT to act like that.

Make eye contact with everyone in the group, not just a few people. Don't stare. Don't talk too much.

Hide scars.

Don't try to prove I know more about something than someone else (even if I do).

Don't swear too much. Don't spit. Stand up straight.

Talk to people (so I'm not mistaken for a snob) but don't talk too loud. Don't complain. Don't ask too many questions, but don't NOT ask questions, or they'll think you're not interested. Don't brag. Don't talk about myself too much.

Maybe I should use a defense mechanism? Maybe I should model myself after someone popular, and then when I get friends, slowly unveil my real personality?

No, I am incapable of doing that. I have too forceful a personality. I've just got to remember to exude only my good traits. I'm just too harsh, too dominant, contradictory, and too expressive. I just mean that EVEN AFTER I settle down, I'm still a little EXTRA EXPRESSIVE.

Dear Nobody,

Well, today was pretty fun (for the most part). I met up with some people I know from Reading. We got high and then we all went swimming. THEY all like me. After they left, I saw the people I always usually see down at the rope swing. They were drinking, and let me swig their Zima and vodka. I got pretty toasted. They were being nice, but there was one girl with them who seemed so unapproving of me—or maybe I'm just paranoid?

Oh, then these other cool guys were talking to me. I see them there a lot. Man, sometimes guys can be assholes when they get high. Just like flirting in stupid ways, which I try to ignore. Well, anyway, it was an okay time, even though I did come home feeling a little lonely. Mom went to her sister's and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I listened to records—had my own private party—and then tried on some clothes, and now here I am. Guess I'll go see what's on HBO.

Dear Nobody,

Down at the rope swing last night, I was chilling with these people, they were smoking my pot, and I was drinking their beer (which they got kind of greedy with). We were all getting along okay, but there was that one girl from before, who opposed me being there—seeing as how she kept trying to
embarrass
me or make me look
stupid
(which is amplified when I'm fucked-up—so I'm perfectly capable of doing
that
on my own). Anyway, she kept getting smart with me, and I told her, straight up, that I didn't even know her. She proceeded to humiliate me even more, and then she even dragged some of the boys into it. I was only trying to make them laugh, and defuse some of my ego. But that's probably the problem, EGO—but if I had no ego, I'd never leave the house. Ego is all I pretend I've got, but I always tie it with humor. I don't know, maybe that's the problem? At this point all I've got is myself; and I think I may even be losing me.

Why doesn't my fairy godmother come and rescue me?

Anyway, this bitch got a little jealous of me, and kept on it. Eventually she turned the whole group against me. She knew right where to hit me: “You came here ALONE? Don't you have ANY friends by now?” By the time I left, they were all fucking with me—just saying stupid shit, about my voice and other things. Two guys who I barely know walked me home. I ended up missing what I wanted to watch on TV, but hey, my life's a drama in itself.

I don't know why this girl bothered me so much. What a BITCH. Maybe it's just the area? Maybe the people around here are just RAISED to be extra cruel?

Dear Nobody,

Today was a cloudy, lonely day. I like it much better when the sun is out, and I get to swim. Maybe if I get a tan, I'll look better—and maybe even get a boyfriend. But making new FEMALE friends is the hardest—guys don't have territorial or jealousy issues with nameless, beautiful girls. If I got a “popular” boyfriend (with a car) he could take me to parties—and introduce me to other girls. I never appreciated how hard it is for quiet thinkers to be the new kid. I mean, I always welcomed new kids (that I approved of) to our group with respect and enthusiasm, more than anyone else did. I only wish the favor could be returned (karmically). Well, for now my lonely ass is going to watch 7TH HEAVEN.

Dear Nobody,

This guy, Mickey, wants me to come to his house to hear his band. He's only fifteen, and he's a cute little Aquarian, but not really boyfriend-material. Speaking of which, I heard from this girl, Adrienne (AFTER Mickey refused to have sex with her), that Mickey is hung-up on me. It may not even be true, but I'm so desperate and lonely—that I can't help but hope that at least someone might be admiring and thinking of me.

Even if he is kind of a loser.