It's Strange.

My friends won't listen to me vent. They see my tears, my hurt, my sadness. They don't comfort me. They think it's weird that I spend time horse back riding and playing basketball with older boys. How I don't try to date those boys. They find it disgusting that I don't eat air, and I even indulge in ice cream and Oreos every once in a while. How my whole life doesn't depend on clothes or pounds of makeup smeared on my face. How I wear what makes me feel good about myself. 
And then strangers or acquaintances see my hurt from behind a screen, or across the room. How they immediatly walk over ask what's wrong. How I lie, and they see right through it. How boys in my school like me even better for it. How they love to watch me eat, weirdly enough.
But mostly, it's just strange to have someone I don't even know be there for me.