I sometimes believe that life would have been better off if I was born as a boy. All I ever wear are T shirts and jeans. I listen to loud music, drink too much coffee, and smoke way more than I should. I don’t even eat correctly and it scared the living hell out of my parents. It’s just how I am. I want to help my father around the house, but I’m too precious to him for him to want me to do anything too “tough”. I want to be someone my mother can depend on, but to her, I’m just a smaller version of her. A fragile little girl. I want to protect them. But being a girl, they can’t help but to always worry about me. Though they accept me fully for who I am, I can never find the courage to talk to them about stuff like the girl I love or anything like that. I will never even get married. I can’t imagine ever finding a girl to call my wife, someone who would want to spend her life with me. I surely would never want to live with me. The thought of me being alone in the future breaks their heart more than it does mine. If it’s not coffee, then I am quietly getting myself intoxicated somewhere, anywhere. I’m always traveling and when I’m home, I’m either up at weird hours in my bedroom or going off somewhere to spend time by myself, reading a book that they will never care to know about. The more I think about it, the more I realize how much of a mess of a girl I must be to them. Disappointment, disappointment.