mourning a stranger

how do you mourn someone you don't know, someone who never could have existed in the first place? i often wonder who i would've been, had i grown up in a stable home, with parents who loved me, with emotions i could understand.

would she dress the same way i dress? dark and gloomy, thick cat eyed liner on her face, lips painted black? or would she dress preppy? bright colors, no makeup covering her face, a smile always present.

i wonder what that girl would be into, would she still be interested in social justice? would the punk rock music perhaps be traded out for pop, or indie? would she still feel at peace when holding a camera?

i wonder what the jokes would be, my humor coming at my own expense and traumatic experiences, what would she find funny? who would she fall in love with; would she fall in love? no more anxieties about disappointing people or being scared of being seen, no longer seeking validation from people who see her as an opportunity.

maybe she'd finally like healthy foods, perhaps following every clean eating trend she found on pinterest. what would her favorite smells be? what would she do for work? would she help people, do a simple 9-5; maybe she'd be an artist, a musician or a vet.

i cry for her, i'm sorry that girl never got a chance, whoever she may have been. i cry for the child that sits in the past unaware of how difficult her life is going to be, so many hopes and dreams, so many friends she's too eager to make. she doesn't know how much she'll be fighting for her own happiness, her eyes bright and full of wonder, and there's nothing i can do to save her, to give that girl that i don't know, a fighting chance; and so instead i mourn a stranger.