This I Believe

Melissa - 02364, Massachusetts
Entered on September 4, 2008
Age Group: Under 18

I believe in the power of a shooting star. I’ve loved stars my entire life. It may be a psychological thing, but the stars always make me wonder. They keep me staring, remaining speechless.

I believe I may be depressed. At times I feel as though I could pass away and nobody would stop. I’ve always been an honor roll student, an AP kid, an athlete, a popular friend. These altered as I entered high school. Giving them up never seemed part of my plan, but I guess that’s just what happens when you grow up. School gets harder, eventually at least a little effort is required. You realize your friends aren’t real friends. You experience the sporadic pang of loneliness.

I’m not sure when I lost touch with my close friends, or why I decided to stop playing soccer. I’m not sure where I lost my self confidence. I’m not sure how I decided to feel sorry for myself on a daily basis, without a legitimate reason. I have no idea when I lost touch with the world, or more importantly myself.

I’m overwhelmingly humble, but here it goes. I’m not half bad looking. I am blonde, blue-eyed. I am tall. Though I may not be model material, I will always have my academic background. I have no idea what a college prep course is like. My mouth, remaining closed when I know the answer to a question in class, is full of straight and white teeth that have never come in contact with a full set of braces. I don’t judge people, I hold the door for strangers, and I always leave a decent tip. I laugh at jokes that aren’t funny. And though I’m never vocal about it, I love the people I’m close to with every ounce of my being and soul.

I hate myself. I get upset looking in mirrors, I cry everyday after school. I tell myself I’ll never get into the college of my dreams, that my family will stop loving me after a while, it’s simply inevitable. I compare myself with every adolescent, and wish to trade lives with the person sitting next to me in Physics class. I interrogate my boyfriend constantly, wondering why he loves me. My dreams of becoming a writer will never become reality, because I am me.

And if I am depressed, if I do have chemical imbalances in my brain, oh well. Tonight I saw a shooting star, and I wasn’t over-weight, my GPA wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. I made a wish and whispered it quietly. In that moment I wasn’t inadequate, I was alive. These moments that make me realize my true self- the 17 year old growing closer to some unknown adult figure. If it’s not a graduate of New York University that moves on to become a published writer, I am open to the other fate that God has for me. That is, if my wish comes true.