i have never really wanted to be different, i've always just wanted to be me.

me. i don't even know what that means. 

does anyone?

to be clear, me has never meant different. 

i never wanted that. 

all of my life, i've wanted to "fit in". i want to have things in common with people.

i wanted to understand them, and have that understanding reciprocated.

that shared moment of, "i know exactly what you mean!".

yet, as i've begun to observe the lives of others flowing around me, 

i'm slapped in the face with variances that are hard for me to ignore.

things that can't be helped, and can't be changed.

every time i spot one, it affects me so much that i can't hide how upset i am.

and without fail, it ends in another breakdown.

another night of tears, of pain, till i fall asleep to escape.

i just want to be able to go home and talk to my mom. 

i want her to listen to me, and to understand me, and to be my friend.

she doesn't even answer the phone when i call anymore.

their house has no longer has room for me.

i wish my siblings were my best friends, and i wish i had fond childhood memories.

i wish they weren't better off with me gone.

i wish i knew how to be part of a family.

i wish i knew what to say when strangers ask me about mine.

surrounded by perfect family photos, and plaques with the shared name and 'families are forever",

i cannot lie about being a little bit bitter.

watching a young woman sacrifice too much, looking out for her younger siblings,

i left mine behind without a second thought.

listening to a daughter get mad at her mom for not stopping to visit when she was in the neighborhood, i definitely was jealous that their relationship merited the emotion.

my mom doesn't even really know where i live.

hearing the laughter and excited conversation of siblings catching up after months of missing each other,

i've gone months with out seeing my family, and didn't miss anything.

honestly, i can't help but feel like i'm the problem.

if the blame had to land on anyone, it would be me.

maybe if i tried, just once, to be a part, it might make a difference.

but i have tried.

no difference was made.

i just wish someone could see all of the things that pan out at the front of my mind when i think about my family, like old photos spread out on your bedroom floor.

i have a lifetime of memories i wish i could replay for someone.

looking at every family picture, i'm the one who stands out.

it's obvious that i don't belong.

i hope that somehow, someday i figure out why i was placed with this particular group of people.

why i was given this set of circumstances.

but i'm tired.

i need a break.

i've been fighting my whole life, and i don't even know why.