I sit crying on the stairs of the backdoor next to the bleachers.

Yes, I'm really crying.

Me, the tough guy with the apathetic face and ripped clothes, the one who’s never short on a sarcastic remark.

I may be a little drama queen but who cares.

And not only am I crying, no, I’m also currently listening to my “Why the fuck am I depressed again?” playlist.

And I have to say Anson Seabra is right.

Growing up’s a waste of time.

I fucking hate high school, hate those stupid classmates of mine, hate my mother for leaving me, hate my father for saying it’s okay, for saying that it can’t be that bad, that it’s all in my head.

I just want to go home.

Just wanna curl up in my bed under the warm comforter.

I want to go back to when mum would hold me and say that everything will be alright.

That it’s alright to be different.

But I know better now.

Either you fit in or you’re Mr. Glasses, the emo kid, the freak.

I guess it’s obvious in which category I belong.

But hey, I have a friend now.

A friend who got me the nickname Mr. Tumble and made me the laughing stock of the whole school. It's okay. Stay positive!

I cry harder, curling up in the corner next to the stairs. I just wanna die.

In the background I can hear birds chirping happily, students laughing and shouting, people talking, like on every other normal day, oblivious to the weird guy sitting here all alone.

Maybe it really is my fault that everything has come to this.

If I were normal, maybe mum wouldn’t have left and dad would still be smiling happily.

Maybe we could have been a normal family, with game nights and other stuff like that.

Am I not enough?

***

So, I made up my mind.

I won’t be weak ever again, I will be strong, I won’t cry, I won’t break down and I certainly won’t tolerate anyone calling me Mr. Tumble.

I will go to school.

I will beat up everyone who dares to say something wrong.

I won’t let anyone hold me down, I won’t surrender, not again.

I mean, it’s only like my sixth time trying so there’s still hope. I guess.

When I break down I always start to hear depressing music, but also somehow put myself together, turn Citizen Soldier on and realize that I’m not the only one struggling and that it takes so much more to hold me down permanently.

So what if I think I’m not enough? If I’m not enough, my words don’t count anyway, so why should I listen to my own doubts?

Hell yeah, life’s meant for living and I fucking won’t surrender!

It’s been a week since my breakdown outside the school building and I guess I’m ready.

I didn’t read any news, didn’t check my phone and didn’t open the door to anyone.

Not that anyone rang the bell anyway.

It needed a lot of convincing myself that I can do better and I made a plan.

I’ll forgive Larry, be nice to her and let her beat up everyone who looks at me the wrong way.

Maybe friends aren't that bad, I mean if they would be too much of a problem why would nearly everyone except for me have friends, it just wouldn’t make sense

A look at the clock shows me its seven am, still more than half an hour left until I have to go to school, but I was so nervous this morning that I accidentally finished way too early.

Suddenly, I remember those Japanese children in the anime I always watch, with their homemade bento boxes and I guess it would be a great way to restart a friendship with food, right?

Forty minutes later I’m finally ready to go and this time nearly right on time.

I just hope Lassy’s not too angry that I didn’t show up last week.

I run my hand through my suprisingly fluffy hair, grab my jacket and head out.

Everything will be alright… right?