Dear... Anyone Who Would Listen
Sorry, I just need to put my thoughts down. I hope it does not rub you up the wrong way.
Actually, I'm so scared of inconveniencing people or them thinking that I'm immature for my age that I often rethink and remember everything that I ever told a person and keep wondering about their thoughts of me. I wonder what they think: "How rude of her", "so immature" "does not know anything but tries to be an intellectual, what a joke". "Can she stop coming on so bloody strong?" "What a flirt" "What a whore". It consumes me. I keep thinking how could I have done it better, what should I have said better, done better, known better.
I'm that girl with the bright smile in the corner, people say that I don't sulk, that no matter what happens, I'm happy.
I'm lost, so lost that I wish people would really see me, hold me for a long hug. Tell me that I'm okay, that I don't need to change anything. That it’s the other person’s fault for not understanding that my intentions were pure. That it’s alright not be the best at anything great, that the time will come where I'll understand where my true life and world lies.
That it’s okay to dream and not be in the reality of today all the time. It’s okay if I can’t understand something that everyone knows. That it’s okay to look in front of me instead of looking at the earth or the sky all the time to avoid others just because I'm scared. That I don't have to lie about my life to be interesting to people. That it’s alright to have my head in the clouds and my heart in the good.
That my dreams aren't just fantasies without anything that will help my life. That it’s okay if the books I read are not meant to make me grow mentally or professionally. That it’s okay to have ideals for myself and people breaking them and asking me to settle with less is the only way that I can live with others.
I’m not intelligent, I’m not street smart, I’m not athletic, I’m not academic, I’m not a good person, I’m not a cunning person. I know I’m lacking, but am I really not worth caring for?
Is all that matters in the world how well I can do things? I’m unattractive, I have become ugly, inside and out, I envy people, I wish I was better, I really do. But is that what defines me?
When people tell me I’m wrong in the way I think and feel, I stand like a rock. Hard steel gaze, defiance in my eyes.
"This is me and this is what I will be, deal with it or go your own way," I say.
But I go back and I crumble. I try changing but can’t, then I tear. I don’t know how many intact pages I have left.
But my book seems just a shell. I pretend to be the deepest person, but I feel so shallow. I’m just a hard bound book of nothingness now. I don’t know what to do anymore. I wait, I’m waiting to feel better.
Please someone tell it’s okay, tell me I’m okay.