For the future, if you know me, the real me; you could see beyond my shy exterior, of deep freckles and humble smile and see that one of my eyes is bigger than the other. Or that I have birthmark on my left eyelid that I try my best to cover up. Or that I have a miserable habit of biting my lip when I’m nervous and uneasy. I have a strange fascination with sun showers and the rainbows that appear in the sky after.
When I write, I feel as if I’m purposely stepping on someone’s shoe and wiping away dust that settles on their foot. I feel as if I’m being pretentious of myself, always trying to jump five steps ahead and hear what someone is saying behind me. When I write, I need to know what I shouldn’t need to know, like feeling a burn before the flame against my skin. I am pretty much a wreck in small crowds always keeping to myself and admiring the details, the little things while I can feel the open spaces of scrutinizing eyes and malicious murmurs.
You can ask me why I hate sandwiches and I’d reply “I don’t know I just do”. I can listen to simple songs people find no meaning to and find that this simple song means ten things to me. You would ask me why I appear to write a lot and I’d answer that my world is a sacred as I see it on my paper and that I’m afraid that once people hold my tiny world in their palms and read me they will leave scars upon my earth’s floor. I feel like once they tear apart my world, I’d have nothing to hold on to but my sanity, which is like a shattered vase holding fresh daises on broad daylight gasping for an escape and reason. You would find me crying on swings as it reminds me of my own vulnerability. How the air around me takes as high as I could possibly shake myself to push but how at the very end this is all I am ever going to be. Just here, and barely what my dreams would take me to become.
You would be in shock when I kiss you out of nowhere, and make you feel me, the spark of me, in just one kiss and eventually let you go. Just kiss you, and make you know I need you, but letting you know I won’t stop my life for you. I would surprise you on days that seem too ordinary, but in truth that’s just me making you feel that I hate losing someone, I don’t want to lose. I will always, always be the last person to sleep when we are together, because I like hearing you breathe beside me and knowing I am liked for simplest reasons, rather than my crushed self. I am broken, I say this a lot so don’t be surprised.
I am just too honest to fool anyone, even myself. I am not good at lying either. Although my attempts have deceived people in life it’s the guilt I harbor inside, rotting to every word and image in my fingers and mind as I spill it on my paper. I am in all aspects, trying. Always been that girl, not really the gullible type, but the type who’s willing to fall again and again just to make everyone know she can, just to prove to everyone I am stronger than they think I am. If you’d one day read this and wonder how different I am when I am near my defeat, when I seem to laugh at myself in front of you just remember one thing, it’s when I am silent beside you, that’s when I feel alright with the world.