Who am I? I always hated that question. I could tell you the obvious,
that I’m a just a teenage guy. But what good would that do? I won’t
really know why I’m here in this world or what my purpose is. The truth
is that I don’t know who I am. I don’t know a lot of things about myself.
I don’t believe that there is a set “meaning of life”. I life has whatever
meaning you give to it. Sometimes for me that might be obvious. I’m an
older brother, here to keep my little brother and sister safe. I’m a friend to
those that don’t have any other friends. I’m there to give them someone
to talk to, someone who will listen to them. Who won’t tell them “ it’s just a
phase” or to “suck it up it’s not that bad”. That there is someone who cares,that
they mean something to me. But sometimes it’s not so easy. Sometimes
I need someone to turn to. But everyone else already has their own problems,
why should I burden them with mine? I can deal with it by myself. But sometimes
it’s so much easier to help someone deal with their demons that it is to face
your own. After all, how do you explain that you like being alone but you don’t
want to be lonely? That I want to be loved but I’m to afraid to be close to someone.
How do I follow my religion?
How do you explain to someone that you have a problem when you’ve already
convinced yourself that you don’t? How do you face things? But I don’t want to be a burden.
And it’s just so much easier to push it all down behind the mask I wear. To bury it
all behind a smile that says everything is ok, while my eyes still cry out for help.
But the someone asks the question “Who am I?”. And how else can I answer but
with “I don’t know.”