My late realization at most odd of times

       "What is this all worth?" I found myself thinking in the middle of a sleep over with three of my friends. This thought hit me hard, I sat in the room being ignored as usual but this time I faced the truth and reality of my life. It wasn't the scenery or that I was being ignored but this scene gave me a small view of the bigger picture. To bring these thoughts to a common context my mind raged on "If I don't mean anything to the ones that mean everything to me, then what am I? Am a simply a waist of space hoping desperately to feel noticed? How am I supposed to look in this god forsaken world for some sense and meaning and purpose if I can't find peace in my own friends? These questions I ask myself are not easily understood to those who are not either deep thinkers, writers or those who find themselves often neglected by their peers.
       This is not a cry for help or attention and I am not like those who will mooch off of friends affection for my own selfish glory or what ever have you. But to look in on your life from the outside and see that I so alone in a room full of people that you have called friends for years. It's almost discouraging in a traumatic way.

      That sense to dare, and push away from people was never something I had a knack at. I never had the nerve to pick fights, and often take insults, mind it I don't but to see myself just take it proves to me that I really couldn't push away from them if I wanted. My mind tells me that I need better friends and to become more defined as a person enough to were I can hold my ground instead of take things and suffice through them. But my mind isn't wired well with my heart, my hearts brittle with neglect and bitter from pain, however I push through it because I don't want to find myself alone again, with no one to find value in me. But I let myself become this without even seeing it. Hidden behind masks to make sure I stay good with my friends has brought me to forget who I am and not see what I've become. The horror of looking into the mirror of reality and seeing something so somber and pitiful, yet the smile never fades because the act is never ending. I could never and never see my heart willing enough to rip off the mask covering my rotten heart, still beating but without a purpose, a heart beating without a soul I am only my physical body. Only a bag of bones. Like stated I wish my heart would follow my mind, thus turning me from a crumbling porcelain doll into a real being with a hear beat. But even with this reasoning I know I will never take it off. I'm stuck in the spider web I spun myself I am my own enemy and will always be my deadliest weapon.

     Through all this though I see a glint of my true self, the way I can read people like their an open book, the way I like to be close to people, it hurts to want to be close to someone but then never get half back. Heart breaking into splinters I prickle people without the meaning in mind and I get pushed away even further. 

      I did not write this in self pity but to express the thoughts to my future self (of maybe 20 years old) and giving her a glimpse in better depth of the hard akes, frustration, happiness, courage and self definition I went through so she could be who she is today. But I see a ratio of positive and negative posts leaning heavily toward negative posts so forgive me for that I need to see a brighter side if I ever do want out of my turtle shell of hurt.