I noticed something I had never noticed before as I walked along the path at camp today. It was a perfect summer day-hot, but not humid, just the right amount of wind. The sky was a lustrous satin blue without a single cloud in sight. The mountains around me were the color of emeralds, with the leaves swaying in that same breeze that graced my cheek, and the water of the pools sparkled under the sun.

That summer day was not what I noticed though, as the world of nature is something I try to appreciate every day. No, instead I got myself thinking about why on such a perfect day at my happy camp music job, I could actually feel as depressed as I did.

I should be elated. I should be euphoric. I made a success out of my first year at college, my music's going wonderfully, my family is together and healthy. I'm writing again, I'm drawing again, I've been inspired to create.

Yet, as I walk along surrounded by the sounds of many happy children, the same alone feeling that has haunted me for months returns to walk beside me. I have many friends, and even more acquaintences. I'm surrounded by people in my life, and it suddenly dawned on me that I don't trust a single one of them. Well.....a slight maybe on one or two. But that's a tiny percentage. I don't even think I trust my family anymore. Strangely enough, perhaps the only one I truly trust at the moment is my little brother, despite the fact that he's as different from me as night is from day.

I make it a point not to lie. I never break a promise unless something drastic prevents me from keeping it. I am loyal to those that I care about, and I feel deeply about many things. I don't say hateful things to people, even when they are cruel to me, and even when others in this world would say they deserved it. And I always forgive. No matter what the circumstance or how repeated the offense, there was never anyone at all in my life that I didn't give a second chance to--or a third, fourth, fifth...

Despite all this, I can count half a dozen people that are not speaking to me or are openly angry with me at the moment. I can count another half dozen that appear bothered by my way of existence.

I had a certain friend of mine tell me about a week ago what a wonderful person I was, and list to me all the reasons she thought I was better than her. It was blasphemy. Curiously enough, less than a month ago this same friend wanted me dead.

Then there's another one who consistently tells me that I'm completely self-centered...but when he's not accusing me of this, he's whining to me about every problem in his life.

There's a third that hides in a shell, afraid of what his parents will think of him if he ever lets them see what he's really like. He can't find the courage to tell them how miserable they're making him. He calls me up to talk to me about it, and when they yell at him about the phone bill, he gets angry at me for not offering to call him.

I've had several people tell me I shouldn't be so overemotional. They tell me I take life too seriously. They have yet to realize that it is only the important things in life, upon which I place value, that I allow t affect me in great ways. The value of friendship--of trust, loyalty and kindness--I don't believe these should ever be taken lightly. People have been cruel to me without cause, have blindly accused me of things without having the courage to ask for the truth. The people I call my friends have lied to me, stabbed me in the back, and told me I am unstable. They have ignored me, belittled me, and hated me with passion. They have cried to me, whined to me, came to me for advice. They have broken every value I placed in their friendship, until as much as they are my friends, my family even, I do not trust them at all.

I do not trust them with my heart. I do not trust them with my mind. I do not trust them with my soul.

Because I do not believe they truly trust me.

But as I thought about all this, I came upon another idea. What if it *isn't* all these other people? What if the problem is me? My coworkers have lost all respect for me simply because I'm too emotional. My very closest friends tell me I'm too mercurial and melodramatic. People that know me feel the affections and emotions I display are fake. They tell me my feelings are too easily hurt. They tell me I don't know how to take a joke. They tell me I don't know how to be loyal. They tell me I don't know how to be kind and unselfish.

Now, amidst all this, I find myself doubting my own values, doubting my own intentions, doubting my own existence. Perhaps I am merely deceiving myself.

I come to a decision I made once three years ago. I shut everyone out, I turned off my emotions. I was close to no one, and I trusted no one. Though I am not despairing as I was then, I find myself backed into the same corner.

If there is no one who accepts me and loves me the way I am, what point is there in trying to be close to people? In trying to love them, and be there for them, when every single time they have turned on me? have accused me? have belittled me? have hurt me willfully knowing their words would?

*shrug* Last night I was in the pool, thinking these same thoughts, floating upon the layers of water, letting myself drift...I am nineteen years old. I feel as if I will be alone forever. And all you smart alecks that are older than me, and all the people the same age as me, and even the people younger than me: you can all tell me it isn't true and I won't believe you. Why? Because you're not me. Most people at this age have had at least one serious relationship. They have had someone return their affections. have blindly thought "I want to be with this person forever" and had that feelings returned, even if only for a short time.

But I have never known that feeling. I have felt it on my own side, but not returned to me. When I was younger, people would tell me "you'll go off to college and meet someone just like you, who will appreciate you for who you are." That's bullshit. It's invented nonsense that people tell themselves to keep from being sad.

And don't think that I'm bitter as I say this, for I'm not. I don't think I'm angry either. Rather, I've just come to this melancholy acceptance. I'm tired of trying so hard, of reaching out and trying to find someone who loves me as I am. Tired of putting myself out there day after day. just plain tired. I'd rather be alone than let myself be smashed again and again.

I have a lot of things on my life that make me very happy. I lose myself in my music, in my writing, my art, in my world of rainbows that no one else has ever understood....though a few have come terribly close...and maybe someday might walk with me, and understand. I walk amid my rainbows, and I live my life with color. With feeling, with highs and lows and happies and sads.

I used to share them with everyone around me...but I don't think I can or should any longer. The door to my world of rainbows is closing, perhaps forever.