There is a girl. A sad girl. Whom I’ve known since I was a little girl. She helped me, get away from all the hurt as a child. She always put on a smile for me. No matter what was happening, she smiled for me. I never noticed the sad tears in her eyes, the bruises and cuts on her skin, the fake smile on her lips, or the pain in her heart. Not until I turned 12. When I was 12 I fell into a sadness that was so unbearable I thought I should die. She told me I was worth it when I was young. I never believed her, but it felt good to be noticed. When I turned 4, she didn’t have as much time for me. She had another girl. A girl who needed her more. Then when I turned 7, she had another girl who needed her more than the first. Then when I turned 9, she had 2 children that needed her much more than the first 2. I thought she was my guardian angel. But she only had time for 4 children, not 5. She didn’t know that I was the weakest. She didn’t notice me anymore. So I sat alone crying, my heart dying. But she didn’t know. Now we don’t speak anymore. We’ve grown so far apart I can’t even talk to her or look her in the eye anymore, for fear she will push me away again. I had been pushed away too many times for another heart break. See, I never understood the pain in her eyes, the bruises and cuts on her skin, the fakeness of her smile, or the pain in her heart until I turned 12. It all screamed help me, I break too, I’m not perfect. How do I know? Well I didn’t until I felt the exact same way.