Dear Nobody (6 page)

Dear Nobody,

I've been talking to Dylan all night. We feel the same about so many things. We've also got something in common; he has juvenile arthritis in his knees—and I have it in my hips and knees. I've been in traction, a wheelchair, and crutches. I don't know how severe it was for him, but I do know that he was put on Codeine for it. I'm glad he's got some idea what's going on with me—and I haven't even told him
anything
yet. Maybe he'll understand more than the assholes around here. I'm devoting my life to music and books. I hate people. I can't love them—they hurt me way too bad—even more than my poor knees do.

Dear Nobody,

Dylan lives in Gettysburg, so I only see him on the weekends, but we talk every day. We slipped up today—and got drunk together. Just a few beers. But when I got home, my mother could tell. That's okay, though—I think she still drinks, too. Except now she keeps it in moderation. I doubt I'll seriously drink anymore either. Time will tell—but I
definitely
won't binge anymore.

Dear Nobody,

HA! That resolution lasted three days! Now I get drunk as a skunk, every day. I don't even go to school. I love Dylan now, even though I promised myself we would just be friends—and we are doing as many drugs as I can get. Mom's back together with a man that abuses her and tried to kill her. They both have alcohol problems—and yesterday I got high with my mom for the second time!

Dear Nobody,

I can't believe I came home drunk last night! I just got out of rehab a few weeks ago. God help my family, they are SO disappointed. I haven't talked to them yet, but I know what to expect. And to top it all off—my grandparents are still here. It's the next morning and I'm up in my room—too ashamed to come downstairs, even though I have the traditional thirstiness, and need to piss really badly. When my mom gets up, I'll talk to her.

But I'm kind of glad, because at least when I drank—it was recreational this time.

Dear Nobody,

Well, it's final. I have a huge crush on that guy, Ryan. I'm not sure if he likes me. I want to take things VERY slowly. Only because I like him so much. The thing is, he's not even all that attractive. He's kind of thin, even—but I like him. A LOT. I think he might be really smart. Mature. He's seventeen, I think. He seems so gentle. It's touching just to watch him watching nature. He's never blatantly disrespectful to anyone. I've never heard him degrade a female. He's interested in art, and likes the same music that I do. I've never really seen him stare at me, but I do think I saw him look at me once or twice. But then again, he does that to everyone—in his deep, analytical way.

Dear Nobody,

Ryan was not at the rope swing today. He ought to be ashamed of himself—leading an innocent, trusting girl (like me) on like that! But today was a pretty nice day anyway. Made me feel pretty again. Like,
really
pretty. Even though Ryan never came, OTHER guys were there, and they renewed my sense of self-beauty. I just KNEW they liked me, even though no-one really got my number—though they DID ask. Ryan will come back for me though. Hopefully tomorrow.

Dear Nobody,

I don't just like Ryan, I adore him.
Admire
him. I am almost
obsessing
over him. I want to see his life. I want to be IN his life. I just hope this isn't the sort of thing where I like Ryan more than he likes me. That'd be kind of upsetting.

Man, aren't I pathetic? No, not as much as some teenage girls are—but that's not saying much! At least I'm not boy-crazy.

I really like him. Dammit!!! This sucks, SUCKS,
sucks
.

I just REALLY, REALLY, REALLY hope he's there tomorrow.

Dear Nobody,

Well, I just got back from the rope swing, and guess what? Ryan (my would-be soul mate) showed-up. And not only does he show-up—but he shows up with
another girl!
Not just any girl either—a really pretty hippie-girl. She had long blonde hair and a really pretty face; really beautiful blonde hair, and even more beautiful blue-green eyes. All of the girls that come down to the rope swing have hair like that—blonde—with eyes as clear and light as the sky in August. She looked older, and cooler than I do (I guess)—more like his type (I have dark brown hair, to match my even darker brown eyes).

I think I acted a little cold to him—after I saw him with that other girl. After that Ryan kind of ignored me. I wondered WHY he had brought her? That pissed me off a lot. I was upset—even a little devastated. I still hope he's there tomorrow, even though he kind of ignored me today. ALONE though. Maybe I could find out who she is and what she means to him? This sucks—I thought about Ryan A LOT; and I still think about him. He's everything I've kept my eye open for (not looking really—I'm never REALLY looking). Though I like him, A LOT.
A
LOT!

Dear Nobody,

Tonight I dyed my hair blonde, but I knew it wouldn't turn out “blonde” after being dark brown—it turned out kind of sandy-butterscotch. The peroxide totally burnt my scalp. I just hope Ryan appreciates it. Even if he doesn't appreciate it, I hope that he at least LIKES it. I do. It's a great color. I mean, it didn't exactly turn out BLONDE, but I didn't expect it to—my hair is way too dark. I had to look at it for a while to get used to it, but now I like it okay. As matter of fact, I love it!

Of course, when Ryan sees it, I'll have to scorn it profusely, saying I hate it, and that it came out all wrong. You know, just in case he doesn't like it—he'll just think that I messed up, and that I must look even better, when it turns out right.

Oh, man, this is how it started last time, remember? First it's the little things; like how you accept the way he'll make you feel stupid when you talk too much. Then it's how he always forgets money when we go out, and I pay. Or when he has money, he'll buy himself food, or pay his own way, and not offer to pay mine.

It all starts with how he'll look me over, and I'll feel criticized, not admired. And that's when I start changing myself, dying my hair, buying new clothes, and just hoping that he'll like it.

Then comes even more serious self-sacrifice, for the sake of HIS happiness, until it doesn't even BRING him happiness, until it's just expected—until nothing matters—but HIM being sure that I am always there.

But I still really hope he likes my hair. I bet the sun will make it a little bit lighter. It IS unusual.

I just feel so out of place. Even the dark-haired people around here have clear green or blue eyes. Maybe I'll get contacts, blue ones. I mean, I've already dyed my hair. I don't know, maybe I shouldn't even have done that. Oh, what do I care? Well, around here, I guess
I have to.

I REALLY want friends. I hate this.

Today I cleaned my room because mom said she'd take me to the mall if I did. Maybe I could get her to buy me some hippie clothes (the people around here dress like hippies). Maybe then I'd be “cool.”

See how desperate I am?

I keep thinking about Hayley, the girl I met at Curon. I'd write her a letter if I weren't so fucking lazy…

Dear Nobody,

Well, today was my first day at the rope swing as a blonde. It was, um, interesting. First of all, I felt a little more confident in myself. I was less shy. I had fun. Ryan was there, but he had no comment on my hair.

I'm crushing on him. Yeah, I'm
crushing
on him.

There's a heat-wave going on now (supposed to be even hotter tomorrow) and I met some pretty nice people (and guys). Some of the guys down there are SO obvious when they flirt.

Man, I really had hopes for Ryan—he's STILL my crush. I could fall in love with this guy. I can't remember feeling this much adoration for any guy. See, he and I are both reserved, a little quiet, and probably try to avoid emotionally embarrassing and/or risky situations (well, I may
not
be tranquil, but I'm
certainly
tenacious).

I have no idea if he crushes on me too.

Probably, not as much as I crush on him.

That's why it's called a crush.

More often than not, I get crushed.

Dear Nobody,

I'm supposed to meet Mickey at the rope swing around 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. When Mickey is there, we usually see Ryan, but after the faces I made the other day, and the mood I was in, Ryan may never be interested in me again—if he ever was. Story of my life. I should have just played it off sweetly, gushing blind friendliness towards Ryan—and making friendly chatter with his “girlfriend,” by complimenting her on her many beautiful physical attributes. That would have fed my vengefulness, and really fucked with him; but I'm just not like that anymore. Instead, I openly sulked, brooded and feigned disinterest in him. I occasionally glanced in HER direction—to size her up. I think he may have seen that. Oh fucking well. I'm not even all that hurt any more. Maybe it's just PMS.

I know he'll be back. Sooner or later.

My magnetism can't be that easy to resist.

Adrienne's boyfriend did help console me, though. Even though I was above asking—he said I looked
better
than the girl my crush had brought—that I was beautiful.

Dear Nobody,

Hooray! Ryan asked me out today! I went to the rope swing figuring I wouldn't see him at all. I didn't even wash my hair, and I wore the same red dress over my bathing suit that I had worn the day before. I offered him a beer and we got to talking. His girlfriend wasn't there. Maybe they broke up? I hope so, but even if they were still together, I still would have said “yes” (just to test him out).

Mickey gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the day, but I didn't care.

I was on cloud nine.

Dear Nobody,

I've got to reconstruct myself. I've got to evolve, and regenerate. That must be why I was sent here to Phoenixville; my destiny wants me to reclaim my true self. I COULD be freer here—I could, maybe, even be comfortable. The ties I bind here could be strong, maybe even honest. I FEEL it—if I could get past the obstructive nature of adolescent relationships, I could build an even more powerful empire. I've got new energy; a new opposition to my previous thinking.

I'm excited now that I know my fate. I cannot sleep tonight (today—it's 6:00 a.m.—and no sleep so far since yesterday). Now, I need my dreams; they have led me to my conclusion (thank you, God). I need them now to unleash the strategy behind my façade (and I need sleep if I expect to keep up this marvelous energy). I've just got to remember to be nice and warm-hearted in my overall relations to people. If I feign shyness and waste my given energy, I will only become restless, which can be very counterproductive to this new “Life Project.”