I am an example of the roller coaster of life. I am an example of a good kid gone wrong. I am an example of the party girl, marijuana as the gateway drug, how sex is a bad thing, and why teenage girls should not go to parties, and if they should, they most certainly should not drink.

I am an example.

I am also a number, a face in the crowd, one of millions of others who have both come before and come after me. I am exactly like so many other people out there that sometimes I forget I exist. Then I am pushed back into reality with a look in the mirror, at the face that has not been wet with tears in so long that I almost believe that tears too do not exist.

I am the stereotypical party girl. I am the one who used to take my shirt off when I drank too much. I am the one who has made out with just about every local party king. I am the one who has had the token threesome, sex with boyfriends just days after we started dating, giving head to boys I would definitely come to hate in the morning.

I am the girl who grew tired of the sex, and when I ran out of it, I am the one who became nothing. My name now means nothing, not what it used to at parties around here. When they used to say it, the boys used to look with reverie and longing at the lucky boy who got to mention it, for whatever reasons he had. I was the easy/teasy girl that every boy wanted, and the lucky ones got. I believed in hook ups for prosperity, climbing the party ladder to the top. I had who I wanted, if not when I wanted, then some time after, and had the bragging rights. My bragging rights now are like the stories of old Hollywood big names who faded in the dust as they got older. Funny, but meaningless.

My name doesn't mean now what it used to. Perhaps I'm still seen as a wild one, but not the sexual animal I was before. Kids around here now probably remember me as the wild one on too much booze, a fucking infinite amount of weed, cocaine, or painkillers. Or as somebody's exgirlfriend. I am remembered as an ex everything.

It's funny, that as I faded from view, I also grew in size. I am not the same girl I used to be, not in mind nor body. I know now that people probably think of me as the one drowning in pain. Not laughing, teasing, dancing and fucking like I used to. Not the little play girl I used to be. Now I'm a big pain, if only to myself.

Who am I now? Someone who smokes weed to stay alive? Someone who sits at home Friday nights dreaming of the things I used to do?

Something like that, but even less. Someone like George Jung, but locked in my own prison, where my former self still hasn't visited. Wanting to say fuck her, but loving and needing her so much. Maybe it is time to say fuck her, but what I'm really wanting to say is Fuck Me. Maybe you can go back. I sure as hell am going to try.