slowly.

I feel like writing!

Then I thought…no, I should wait until later. But I’m afraid that the urge to write will leave me. So thus I write.

The rest of my family is over at my grandparents’ house visiting. I decided not to go. I go over almost every day anyway to ride. Plus I don’t like being ignored by my grandfather. Ever since I’ve moved in with R., he just ignores me and tries not to even look at me.

It’s better that way though.

Honestly.

I spent most of the day in a daydream. I push myself into that mentality. I feel like a doll. Not even a beautiful porcelain one. An ugly one. Cheap. Made of plastic meant to resemble crystal…trying to imitate something that is beautiful. With cracks. Never quite succeeding. Like the beautiful porcelain dolls my great aunt collects. She bought one with Sara’s name and Rachel’s name.

Apparently they don’t make any named Amanda.

And why should they?

I feel like that sometimes. Seeing others in their perfect clothes, carefully applied make-up, talking about laying on the beach to get the perfect tan.

I could care less. Me with my wind-swept hair that is begging to be brushed. In my cut off jeans and dirty shoes.

I’m not one of them. I can’t even pretend to be one of them.

So I wandered around today. Went to get copies made of my teaching materials. When I was in the store a child looked at me and started running towards me. He was probably about two or three. He kept yelling “mommy, mommy…” He obviously had confused me with her. His father ran after him, grabbing him, telling him…”she’s not your mother” with a apologetic smile on his face. I felt like reaching out though. Wanting to touch something so at peace. Wanting to comfort him and tell him that his mother would be back soon.

But I just kept copying my materials.

Feeling like I was melting.

Slowly.