Gabriella
I have never felt so alone in my whole entire life.
Here I am holding hands with Troy Bolton on my balcony, and he could be mine with a snap of a finger. And I want him, but I know I can't love him. Not just him - I know I can't love, period.
My parents are great, really, they are. So my dad lives a few states away, okay, but my parents are still married, and I know they still love each other. I know they trust each other and I know they know the other would never do anything to hurt them. They love me, too. And I love them. Thing is, none of us loves ourselves.
When I moved to South Carolina for a few months in 7th grade, the first day of school my teacher made all of us sit in a "friendship circle" and list three good qualities about ourselves. Nobody had any trouble with it, except when they got to me, my only answer was a four-letter word: "Pass." The only reason I had friends at that school was out of sympathy, all because I didn't answer that stupid question. It's not that I was shy or didn't want to… I didn't have an answer. I only noticed the flaws in myself, and nothing else.
I can't love because I don't love myself. I strictly depend on others for the love I can't provide myself, and it hurts to be that selfish. My mom doesn't love herself; I grew up listening to her rant about how terrible she looks and how she wishes she was talented, and my dad is quiet about it, but the one time I've heard him talk about himself it was a ballistic argument with my mother. I am shy because I don't want to put others through pain. Like mother like daughter, like father like daughter. Sitting here with Troy is the most hypocritical thing I've ever done.
He's so... clueless. He doesn't get it. All I would take from him is unconditional love, and once my tank was filled with it I would get rid of him and move on. That is the epitome of playing hard to get. So there, Sharpay, you can have him. I can't.