Maybe

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to get the hell out of here. Just to take off into the darkness outside, and wonder when I would see anyone again. Maybe then I could finally do what I want to do. Maybe then I could write what I want to write.

Or maybe nothing would happen. Maybe I wouldn't change at all. I'd still be the same person, sitting on her bed watching the sky outside turn from blue to purple as the sun sets.

Or maybe I would become someone completely different. I could be a pirate, living my life on the seas and fighing people for gold. I could be a popstar, singing to places I haven't even heard of and listening to people sing along to my songs. I could be a hermit, living in the corners of a hut, no one around to check on me anymore.

Sometimes I want to change. I want to be that person everyone says is so cool. But then I realize that it's not possible. I'm still me. I write stupid stories that make no sense. I sit on my bed and pretend like someone is sitting next to me so I can talk to someone. I check my phone every five minuntes just to see that no one has texted me.

It's okay. In my head, I'm everyone I want to be. And maybe, someday, that'll all come true.