(no subject)
I know you. You couldn't talk to them very well. Words didn't seem to work. You tried so hard to understand the others. You wanted to be part of what was happening. You saw them having fun. It seemed like such a mystery. Almost magic. You thought that there was something wrong with you. You'd look in the mirror trying to find the flaw. You thought that you were ugly and that everybody was looking at you. So you learned to be invisible. To look down. To avoid conversation. The hours, days, weekends. The weekend nights. Alone. Where were you? The basement, the attic, your room? Staying away from the ones that made you feel so strange. I remember when you were invited to one of their parties. I bet you sat and wondered if you would go or not. For hours I bet you imagined what might happen. If they would laugh at you. If you would know what to do. If you would have the right things on. If they would notice that you came from a different planet. Did you get all brave in your thoughts? Like you were going to be able to go in there, deal with it and have a great time? That all these people were going to talk to you and you would find out that you were wrong and that you had a lot of friends and you weren't so strange after all? When you got there did they mess with you? Did they single you out? Did you find out that you got invited because they thought you were so weird? You spent a lot of time full of hate. A hate that kept you up at night. A hate that carried you for a long time. You couldn't figure out what they saw in the way they lived. Home was not home. Your room was home. A corner was home. Anywhere they weren't. That was home. You're sensitive. You hide it. You fear getting stepped on one more time. It seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable someone takes advantage of you. One of them steps on you. They mistake kindness for weakness. But you know the difference. You've been the brunt of their weakness for years. Strength is something you know a bit about. You had to be strong to keep yourself alive. You know yourself very well now. You don't trust people. You know them too well. You try to find a special person. Someone you can be with. Someone you can touch. Someone you can talk to. Someone you won't feel so strange around. You found that they don't really exist. You feel closer to people on movie screens. You spend a lot of time daydreaming. People have made comments because of this, telling you that you're self involved and self centered. But they don't know, do they. About the long nights alone. About the years of keeping yourself company. All the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself so you could imagine someone holding you. The hours of self doubt. The intense depression. The blinding hate. The rage that made you stagger. The devastation of rejection. It infuriates you to watch yourself screw things up. The rain and the sun. The changing seasons are true friends. Faithful and patient. Yes, I think I know you.