I pulled my pink sweatshirt on as we headed outside. It was my favorite sweatshirt. I loved how it just fit me perfectly, how the warm fluffy inside of it just wrapped around my skin. It was pretty cold, and I was alone. I watched as the other kids played and laughed with one another. I was walking around the parking lot, occasionally sitting down to catch my breath. I look around. Im alone, and that was the first time I had ever felt it.
I was in fourth grade when that happened.
I'm a relatively happy kid, I've always enjoyed being around people. I love the feeling of laughing until your lungs hurt. I love talking late at night about the things I'm scared of. I love people. I've just always felt like I did the wrong thing.
I was very insecure at a young age because of how I was raised. My parents never forced me to brush my hair, or to care about school. So I never did any of that. Which led to a lot of people looking at me weird and judging me and thinking I was stupid.
I hated living like that.
I didn't have a hard time changing schools since I was relatively young. It was fourth grade, I was the new kid, and it was when I made my first friend that seemed real.
"Do you want to be my friend?"
That's what I asked them the first day we met. We sat across from each other, only inches apart. They were the first person I talked to and it just so happened to be someone who was new to the school.
"Sure, I'm new here so I don't know many people"
Was what they replied with. So, the story of my first true friend. We did a lot together, but anytime I was excluded from anything I felt left out.
I have always had a burning thought stuck in my head playing over and over again on repeat.
"I'm alone"