I am the most famous seventeen-year-old in the United States. I've been so, for the last couple of months ever sinceI met him.
At first I thought it would be different. All the money I could wish for, my face on the cover of magazines, popularity, all that. But I soon realized it was the complete opposite, especially when things don't work out the way you want it to.
I can no longer go anywhere without people recognizing me, and shoving a stupid damn microphone into my face and asking me questions so private, I doubt even my best friend would ask. I have people following me everywhere I go. When I mean everywhere, I mean they would probably follow me into a toilet cubicle if I didn't have half a dozen bodyguards at my side. Then there's the public. They talk among themselves spreading stories far from the truth. Just the other day, a girl in my Spanish class told her friend she saw me smoking and declared that I was on drugs, simply because I've been rather depressed lately. That was the understatement of the century. But still, utterly insane. For heavens sake, I'm a good girl. Too much of a coward to even drink a sip of beer, let alone have a cigarette. Yet I agreed to be with him.
And to think my friends would always be there for me, I feel sick to the core at the very thought. Most of them don't even want to know me anymore, and have decided to avoid me and pretend everything's alright. Well listen here, it isn't alright. Not anymore. How I wish from the bottom of my heart; I could be the girl I once was, before he entered my simple life, and made it the most happiest time I ever had and ever will.
But how is it possible to erase what has already happened? I can't bear to remember, and yet I know I can't forget. It's too painful for me to think about, so I try to block it all out, but as hard as I try, the memories still return and hit me like a large wave, each time harder than the last.
Great, I've started to cry again. It seems as if I can no longer look at life the way I used to. I find waking up each morning a challenge, knowing that each day will be no better than the last. I'm trying hard for my family, to be the cheerful, go lucky person I once was. But I find every time I smile, it has to be forced, and I can tell it looks strained.
What is the cause of all my pain and sorrow?
Jason Levine.
He was the most famous actor in the United States, and he left me. He told me he loved me, but he left me. And that proves love doesn't always work out. Its true, love stinks, but when you find it… words cannot describe the feeling.
It's the closest thing we have to magic.