I feel like there are those who are constantly happy with themselves and the life they are living. I think that there are many people who go through life constantly amazed at the beauty they are surrounded by and the people they have chosen to be friends with. I think there are those who are ever so lucky to find their purpose in life; they know exactly what they are meant to be and who they are meant to help.

Then there's me.

A boy who simply cannot contain himself. A boy who constantly wonders if he looks fat or if people think he's stupid. A boy who acts like he doesn't give a fuck about what people think about him, but he really does. A boy who cries at night because he can feel his stress piling on top of the fact that he feels as though he will never be good enough at anything. A boy who has to put an exclaimation point at the end of each sentence to sound as though he is happy.

A boy who can feel himself falling apart.

People think that falling happens instantly. They think that in a split second you fall from the tallest cliff into the deep water beneath you, but it doesn't happen that way. Falling happens gradually and then gravity takes over and you go faster and faster and then you hit the water, the lowest point, with a huge burst of kinetic energy. You cause a splash and then a ripple and then where your body made contact with the water doesn't even appear on the surface.

Right now, I'm in the air and I can feel myself falling and I can see the world around me. I can feel the sensation of slow motion. I can feel my heart racing, thumping in my chest like a huge drum. Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. I can hear the echoes of my friends and family calling out to me. They are screaming my name. Louis! Louis! They are wanting me to come back to them, but can't they tell I am already falling?

I try to not think about falling of off cliffs and drowning myself in a puddle of my own sadness as I sit at the dinner table with my family right in front of me. I try not think about the fact that this innocent conversation is going to turn into a third world war in a matter of seconds and focus on pushing around my broccoli. I try not to think about the fact that I could excuse myself from the table, take the car for a drive and "accidentally" kill myself as I take a sip of water from my glass.

Can't they see that I am tired? I'm not talking about the dark circles under my eyes, or the fact that my body looks so pale. Or that I can hardly stand to walk toward my bedroom after taking care of the dishes. I'm talking about feeling physically and emotionally drained. I'm talking about not being able to hold a conversation because I just can't find myself to say the right words. I'm talking about not wanting to complete my homework, because I just can't force myself to think that I'd actually be able to make it a good essay. I'm talking about wishing I lived life on my own that way I didn't have to feel as though I've let so many people down.

Can't they hear my sobs at night? I'm greatly surprised that my agonizing cries haven't woken them up. They are heavy sleepers, I suppose. Why would they even care if their son or brother were crying. Surely it is nothing. It's something small; some person broke my heart, nothing to worry about; I didn't get into the college I wanted, but there is always the community college down the street; I'm weak and hurt myself by lifting boxes all day long, whatever it is will heal. They would never suspect that I was seriously considering something out of the extreme, because I am simple one. I am the one they can always expect nothing out of; I'm the undramatic child; I'm the happy boy.

I've found out that I am constantly misjudged. For one, I am not the carefree person everyone sees. I wish I was, but I spend far too much time thinking about what outfit to wear that won't make me look fat; I spend far too much time dwelling on the past and replaying that awkward moment from months ago; I spend far too much time looking at myself in a mirror considering which things I'll need to change in order to look like a guy people would want to date. I'm not funny like they think. I crack a joke I found online; I tell a pun my father told me; I copy funny quotes off of websites; whenever I try to make my own joke, they simply blink their eyes and then the laugh at my "epic fail". I'm nice, but I try too hard. I'm outgoing, but I can't stand conversation. I'm "so cool, bro", but I'm also "really bossy".

I'm simply the guy who isn't what he is.