golden years

everyone tells me that im so smart, so mature, so tall, so pretty, such a leader. that i give them hope for the next generation. that i should enjoy my golden years, where i'm free and stressed out, i make all of my firsts, first love, first job, first apartment.

no one tells me that im going to be alone, for the most part, while all my of age-mates are sucked into their black holes of despair. that i am one of the few teenagers i know that aren't suicidal. that i don't have a mental illness, and that makes me stand out.

of course i have my bad days, but they never last long, unlike my classmates, and friends, and friends of friends. no one tells me that ill have to stare at my mom have much worse than bad days, have to stare at my love have much worse than bad days, and be able to do nothing.

as an empath, i feel such deep emotional pain when i know there is nothing i can do to release the mental burdens of those i love. it's all in their head, and no matter how many jokes i tell, and how crazy i act, i cannot make it go away.

the first time i realized that i am a minority in that sense was grade 10. as the youngest, most expect me to be the most immature, and im not (i hope so). however, i am the happiest, by far.

my golden years are good for me, and bad for everyone else im taking the trip with.

wack.