Black and white

"There is no black and white," they say. When the clock strikes 11, I don't believe that. The world dulls and I don't see with gleaming eyes full of excitement anymore. I've just accepted it. Hell, I even welcome it. I've accepted the constant yelling in my head telling me to ignore it. I can't deal with it anymore, I'm tired. I've been on this earth for 16 years, but I'm tired. I don't know why I was put here only to feel exhausted with everything so early in my life.
I've tried my best and it really isn't good enough. I am not gifted nor do I have the motivation to become gifted. I'm not what they want. The picture perfect daughter who is oh so agreeable. Ive tried for so long to be that perfect daughter, but I'm done. I'm done trying for the goal to just skyrocket. I'm done. I've given up, is that what you want to hear? Does it make you happy to hear that your imperfect daughter will just stay as imperfect as she is?
I want to go back to simpler times. Before the nights of black and white, I saw color. I would smile so much that my face would hurt, I would laugh so loud that my laughter echoed throughout the house, I would innocently take for granted the simple happiness I felt. I miss that, but I've changed. I'm not the me I used to be. They all say that I am and always have been the same, but do you really want to know what's going on inside? No, you don't, but more importantly, I don't want to burden you with the pain that drags me down.
It's funny to think about how I used to fear the dark. The thought of a monster hiding in my closet or under my bed would keep me up. Then I aged and realized that the darkness is a cover of warmth. It's a place you can feel safe in and completely yourself in.