Her.

There's a certain someone who, for multiple reasons, I admire. She's smart, she does what she wants, she's kind, she's confident and mostly, she's living her life. I don't talk to her much, or now that I think about it, at all and I don't know if she ever reads my blogs, considering we post on different sites, but I don't mind if she doesn't see this.

We were friends for a while. She and I weren't terribly close, but I was the bi guy she liked to talk with for a while and ask raunchy questions. I slightly miss being the weirdo that people felt they could vaguely relate to. There was a small while that I had a crush on her, but I don't think it was mutual. We could talk at a more intellectual level and just stay up all night just talking deeply about trivial things. I miss her, I have a lot to thank her for.

For all intents and purposes, we'll call her Thirteen for now.

Thirteen moved away a while ago, and started her life on foreign ground, a thing I hope to do someday. That's the first thing I admire her for. Thirteen had the courage to get up, get out and leave most of it behind.

Thirteen never really cared much about what people thought of her, nor does she now. She was always confident in what she thought was right, correct or not. This may have caused misunderstandings with dramaticism of teenage life while she was still here, but it never brought Thirteen down.

Thirteen does what she likes. Not in the manipulative 'Mean Girls' stereotype kind of way, more like a 'I wanna make a short film, let's go.' kind of way. I suppose this is the part I envy the most.

Anyways, I feel that, in my mind, as I type this, I'm comparing myself to Thirteen and seeing where I go and have went wrong. I suppose it betters me. One day I'll feel better. One day.