Prologue

I've never been good with relationships.

I've never had a boyfriend, or even entertained the idea of having one. In fact, friendships in general, especially ones with girls, had been basically non-existent in my life.

I have always been independent.

I never felt the need to justify myself or my opinions to anyone else for any reason.

But, things have changed.

I now find myself sitting in my favorite chair, looking out on the backyard pondering how much my life has torn me away from my isolated existence. If someone were to have told me then that this is how much my life was going to change, I would have laughed at them while walking away.

I am in a relationship and am genuinely happy. Albeit that it can't be categorized under what the average person would deem a "normal" relationship. I don't think that I would be if it were any other way.

I have a best friend whom I couldn't see myself living without. The irony of the situation didn't escape me. I had been perfectly content to live my life as it was; never knowing the happiness that was destined for me.

Now that I know that this type of happiness exists, I couldn't survive without it.

The road that led me here, however, was far from being paved with gold.

I had endured isolation, been taunted by my peers and faced rejection in its most painful forms.

As a child, I was the type that was pretty easy going. Even my parents, well, mostly my mother, said that when I was a baby, I would just sit in my swing for hours and just take everything in. She said that she didn't worry about toys for me, because I would never play with them; they didn't interest me.

As I got older, my entertainment came in the form of books. She always got me a book when we went out whether it was a generic board book when I was a toddler, to a classic novel when I was in middle school.

My childhood was far from what one would call normal.

Mom left my father when I was relatively young. My father was never an important factor in my upbringing. I did spend a couple of weeks with him each year on vacation in California, but other than that, he was mostly a voice over the phone.

Overall, I was a naturally observant person. When I wasn't actively participating in any kind of "normal social behavior", it wouldn't have been uncommon to find myself on the sidelines watching others. I took interest in seeing how others would react when faced with unique predicaments or awkward moments. I always found it amusing to see the situations that folks would get themselves into without really trying to.

Many would have thought that this characteristic alone would have saved me years of heartache and torture. However, even the most observant individual will only see the trees instead of the forest in front of them; only see what they want in order to suit their personal needs. All the other details will eventually fade away into the background, along with the big picture.

Only now do I completely understand the phrase, "hindsight is 20/20".

Mom always said that I was destined to do great things, and that is why I seemed to stand alone intellectually and socially. I never appeared to fit in, and my high school experiences seemed to amplify that fact.

It wasn't for a lack of trying.

Evidently I was born without the gene to function on a normal level socially. I always found it difficult to juggle the various personalities of friends that I had made. I never cliqued with any one person; one that I could fill the title of best friend.

When I was in elementary school, I did attend sleepovers and birthday parties, but the other girls there were already thick as thieves and I found it difficult to indentify my place with them. I always felt that I was forcing myself on them and that if I was to truly be myself, they wouldn't like me. Over time, it just became easier for me to write myself off as being different and stopped making an effort.

During high school, I got along with people, but conversations never stepped outside of the "socially acceptable small talk" stage. People didn't mind working with me because they knew that my work ethic was impeccable. In many cases, I was taken advantage of and a majority of the time I ended up doing the bulk of the work. Again, though, I didn't mind because it helped to fill my nights and weekends with something to do.

Academically, I was near perfect.

I always have been and my teachers loved me for it, while my peers loathed me because of it.

I pretty much aced everything. Honors, AP---they never really challenged me.

I was the reason why all the curves were skewed and expectations were set high on assignments and assessments. My ACT score was a perfect thirty-six, which landed me a ton of scholarships, and pretty much gave me an open invitation to any college or university in the United States, and even some that were located overseas. As if my grades, GPA, and class rank weren't enough to solidify my status as the school's social pariah, my acceptance to any university seemed to seal my fate. Although, when your entire life consists of studying, what else would you expect from a girl like me?

I didn't live my high school years like some many of my peers. I never attended a football game, a dance, or a play. They held no interest to me. On those nights, I could be found in my room, curled up in a blanket that my grandma Marie had made me, reading a book, or at my desk working through a calculus problem.

That was my brand of entertainment.

It was also my way of coping with the stress that came with being a teenager, especially a teenager like me.

Mom was always trying to get me to tag along with whatever adventure she was trying out for the week. The activities always varied in topic. From making jewelry to Nia classes or scrapbooking to yoga, I always declined, saying that I was going to hang out with my friends. She never pushed, but I suspected that she had her suspicions about my evening activities.

I had friends, and we hung out every night; Emily Brontë, Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Walt Whitman, Samuel Clemens, to name a few. They told me stories of long ago, of love, family, and society. Each night, I found myself transported to a different place or time with their help, and experienced life through them, and the intricate characters they so brilliantly created.

Mom always joked that my perception of romance was skewed based on the literature that I poured myself into. She pitied my first boyfriend because he would never be able to live up to the standard that the written gentlemen had set in terms of romantic expectations. My response was always the same, "What's wrong with that?". I had high standards for everything else, why would that aspect of my life be any different?

High school graduation was supposed to represent the pinnacle of one's educational career. For me, it was just another day. I put on my happy face and, honestly, I was happy. My source of happiness stemmed from the idea that I wouldn't ever see any of those people again.

I gave my cliché speech as the class valedictorian and directed the very group of peers that taunted me for years through the tassel relocation. As I made my way through the mass of people, I saw that many of my classmates were in tears, sobbing and grasping onto their friends while saying their goodbyes. I don't think that I had ever seen such a gross display of false emotion. Several people that I had classes with tried to give me a hug, as if they were my best friend. I uncomfortably gave them a quick hug, and tried to get out of there as fast as I could. I shook hands with a couple of my teachers as I made my way out and then walked away, never to look back.

I couldn't wait for college.

I needed to be out of high school and away from my petty peers. I needed an atmosphere where I could isolate myself, without the scrutiny of others, and focus on my school work. My main goal: to graduate as quickly as possible, and to move on with my life.

Alone.