In third grade, I cried every night thinking my mom was going to die if I went to sleep. Who thinks of that as a third grader? You’d think, as I grew older I would stop worrying. I didn’t. Seems the older I get, the more things I have to worry about. My mom says, “You’re going to worry yourself to death one day”.


The school year is when it’s the worst. I worry if I’ll get to college with my swimming, grades, and my boyfriend going back to New Jersey. Especially the last one. My boyfriend is my best friend. Being attached was what we were for two rocky years. He cheated on me once so we broke up. For that month, I stopped eating and was working out everyday for two hours, losing weight quickly and unable to put it back on. He apologized. I gave him another chance. I get the same reaction from everyone when they hear that, but no one understands our relationship like we do.
Things got better, but I still can’t stop worrying. I’m always thinking about what he’s doing, so I can’t focus on what I’m doing. When he’s out having fun, I try to do the same but find myself crying wishing things were different. We can’t change the situation we’re in, but I also know I can’t let go of someone who plays a major role in my life even though we’re 1,000 miles apart. I sometimes wonder if I worried less and was happier when he was just a friend. Am I the one being faked into thinking I love him when I’m really just afraid to be alone and let go? Maybe the reason people can’t understand who I really am, is because I can’t even describe myself.