I don’t know. I have friends. I have several of them. And my family is ok, except when my mother gets on my case or my little sister bugs me. I have some fun cousins. I love my baby cousin. So why do I feel so alone sometimes?  I worry about what I’m going to do with my life. I wonder where I’ll live and if I’ll have a family of my own.  Meanwhile, I have all this stupid math homework again tonight. I did ok on my test on Friday. I got a B. My teacher kept me after class to talk to me about my grade. He said I didn’t get it all right, but he could tell I understand a lot of it, so he gave me partial credit. He I guess that make me feel sort of good. I’m not a total failure in math. But I don’t know why I have to know all this stuff. Why are there all those letters mixed up with the numbers?? Ok, so I do sort of know some of it, but it gets so confusing sometimes.

Am I fat? Sometimes I think I’m fat. My mothers says I’m not, but then she gets on my case about what I eat and how much and when. I don’t look like the girls on tv. Maybe those guys at school drool all over those mean girls only because they have perfect bodies. They’re all skinny. Well, except for B, but she’s not fat really. She wears all those expensive clothes and all that makeup and no one seems to notice that she’s a little… jiggly. I’m not jiggly. I wish I had my license and could drive and work at Abercrombie and buy the clothes they all wear. Mom doesn’t like it when I wear makeup. I keep some in my bag and put it on at school, but sometimes I feel like people still look at me funny, with makeup or without it.

My aunt doesn’t wear makeup. She’s not skinny. She’s really cool. She has a really great husband and a great dog and my little baby cousin. I like her house. It’s not big, but it’s fun to be in. She smiles a lot and is really funny. I want to be like her. I’m going to spend next weekend with her. Maybe she can help me with makeup. Maybe she can help me figure out how to talk to HIM. I think about him every day and I can’t concentrate on anything else. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows I exist. Well, I know he knows I exist. But maybe he doesn’t know how much I like him. If he knew, would he like me, too?