I heard this quote once. It depressed the hell outta me. It went something like, âIâm here. I love you. I donât care if you need to stay up crying all night long, I will stay with you. Thereâs nothing you can ever do to lose my love. I will protect you until you die, and after your death I will still protect you. I am stronger than Depression and I am braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust meâ (Elizabeth Gilbert). I couldn't help but wish I had someone like that, but I know I never will. No one on this earth could really ever love me... It kills me inside.
What is this, a rehab meeting? Fine, I'll play along. Ahem.
My name is Jason Meth; sometimes I go by Ace.
I'm 17 years old.
I'm lonely as hell, have low self-esteem, and I just feel empty and dead inside. I've always been unloved, but I've finally accepted that. More or less...
Description:What do I look like? God--don't you have eyes? I do. They're green. Almost an olive green, with amber flecks all over. My hair is a sort of sandy blonde, not short but also not overly long... I'm a pretty tall guy, about 5 foot 11 and a half inches. With how short girls are these days, it's not hard to be tall. This one girl, Hannah, she's only 5' 2". I tower over her. I always tease her about it, calling her baby, midget, child, and the like. Lame stuff like that usually ticks her off. She cusses me out because of it. Oh, I'm off topic. I work out and run a lot, for lack of anything better to do, so I'm pretty muscular for my age. Not to brag, but I am something of a stud. Not that it ever helped me in life.
Personality:What kind of guy am I, huh? That's a little tricky. I have 2 sides to me. It's all me, in the end, but they're very separated factions of me. I already told you I'm lonely. At my old school I didn't have any friends. I was a loner. When I came here, a place I could start over, I took on this role, almost. Except it isn't a role, yet it is. Confusing, I know. I guess I took the inside me and brought it out, then tucked away the loner me inside? Bah. I'm done trying to explain. Anyway, I'm kind of the jock, I guess. I have a lot of friends, fake friends, but no one that really likes me. I guess some people think of me as an asshole, because I'm a tad sarcastic and have a tenancy to tease. Really, what could my words ever do, though? No one cares what I do. I'm your average guy, academically, but mostly because I don't apply myself. I could do better, but what's the use? I completely fail at history, though. I run track and play football. Pretty typical. Sometimes I mess around with the cheerleaders, but it doesn't help me any. I guess I'm mature enough to know that all the relationships I have, they aren't real. I want someone to actually love me. Or, hell, even just like me. Everyone I have now would ditch me if I didn't act as cool as I do. A lot already stab me in the back, but I don't do anything. I guess fake is better than nothing at all.
I'm pretty laid back and casual. I don't care much for perfection--what's the point? My hair is usually messy, but it adds to the cool aura so it works out. My humor, insane randomness, and somewhat nerdyness stay inside with the loner. I have to be the cool jock dude. I usually like veg out at home alone, as I don't have anyone I actually like to hang out with. People always disappoint you. My room is covered in random posters for things like halo burger, marvel/dc comics, assorted lesser known bands, old cartoons, ghost busters, mythbusters, and the like. I also have random quotes jotted down on notebook paper and taped around. I tried to learn the guitar, and I did, but I suck at it. My voice kinda sucks, too. It's funny. God, I'm lame. No one really knows, but I'm a huge science freak. Especially biology. Photography is pretty cool. I can do that pretty well. Drawing, ha ha ha... That, I really suck at. My stick people look like a child's scribbles. No--that would be an insult to the child. No joke. I'm kind of jealous of Hannah for her talent. Not that I would ever admit that to her. The truth is, I really suck at talking. I guess that's why I tease and joke all day. It's easier to stick with meaningless small talk with fake friends, and it's easier to tease someone and respond to their anger. I guess I'm messed up, in that way, seeing as I'll take negative human interaction over none at all. I feel like she'd be the one teasing me if I was myself and tried to actually talk to her. Or anyone, for that matter. You know, a lot of guys are mean to girls they like. I wonder what our deal is? I can't really help it. I just... she's so easily teased. Off topic again. I'm rarely ever serious, except when I'm sulking and depressed. I'm actually a really bad liar, especially if I'm put on the spot. I'm kind of a pacifist, but I'll fight if I have to. I'm a little selfish and maybe a tad arrogant. I absolutely hate when someone is better than me. If it's something I'm good at, my shattered pride is impossible to ignore. If it's something I'm not good at, I don't feel quite as bad, but the malice is still there. I try to be a good sport, but... Anyway, I hate being outwitted. If I think of some witty comment, and someone else counters and I have nothing to say back, oh god. Talk about shame. I also have this quirk--when I blush, my entire body flushes. Arms, legs, ears, everything. It's so god damn embarrassing. I've rambled too much for someone no one cares about...
Backstory:Nobody knows this, except the school councilor and a few school staff, but... I'm a foster child. My mom was a severe alcoholic and didn't much care for me. In fact, she didn't even know she was pregnant at first. I guess it *happened* while she was pretty wasted. She never really liked me, because she was forced to stay more or less sober for 6 months. She still drank, though, and I had issues when I was born, a month premature. It's more or less taken care of now. I still have bad eyesight, and wear contacts during the day and glasses at home. I really hate contacts. My glasses are those big, black, square ones. I actually kind of like them, but I wouldn't want to get alienized, and the nerdy types wouldn't accept me. I also have photosensitive epilepsy. It's okay, though. I make sure not to get surprised or go to dances or anything, so I don't have seizures that often. Anyway, enough of my health problems. My mom died in a car accident when I was five. Sure, she didn't really show love for me, but she was there and she kept me. Yes, I stayed home alone. Yes, I cried and cried and almost never got what I needed. But she was there. And then she wasn't. It was hard for me. They tracked down my dad, who I had seen a few times, and he immediately signed off his parental rights. He flat out told me he didn't love me and wouldn't even care if I had died in that accident. That hurt. It really hurt, because it was the first time I heard it out loud.
The social worker dropped me off at a place in the city. A small apartment. I was a mess, physically, from more or less being neglected kind of. I was a mess emotionally, too. And to make matters worse, it was a snobby 2 parent home with their own biological child. They never liked me and the kid always framed me for everything he did wrong. One time I actually did something, since I was blamed for everything anyway, and I got moved to a new home. I became a problem child, I guess. People were scared of me. I bullied the other kids because they wouldn't accept me. I bullied my "siblings" at home. I destroyed stuff in my depression. My grades were crap. I was just some stupid, emotional, troublesome piece of shit that no one wanted. Some of the kids, once I got older, found out about my epilepsy and would purposely trigger it. Then they'd do crap to me while I was having a seizure. Somehow, I don't think I'm as much an asshole as people think. I don't bully people, in my opinion, I just tease a little. Well, actually, I am mean to some people. I'm mean when I get someone back for pissing me off. Anyway, I moved all over the place. No one liked me. Finally, I settled at my current foster home. With the Kelley's. I decided to try and make it work this time. There's this quote, âI believe that you control your destiny, that you can be what you want to be. You can also stop and say, 'No, I won't do it, I won't behave his way anymore. I'm lonely and I need people around me, maybe I have to change my methods of behaving,' and then you do itâ (Leo F. Buscaglia). That pretty much sums up my catharsis. I hope to someday have someone like me, and I can like them. I'll be there for them--I'll be so good to them. I've always wanted to be someone's hero. Always. But I guess I'm too selfish to do anything for anyone, unless they do something for me. I don't want to save anyone unless they fill this hole I have in my chest. This loneliness... God, why couldn't I just be a normal kid?