Almost Normal

Intro

Authors Note- Hi everyone! Welcome to my first ever fanfic. As you can tell I ship Eremin like it's my religion. In this fanfiction, most of the chapters will be in Armin's point of view, but there will be some that will be in Eren's. This chapter is just going to be a short little insight into Armin so it will be shorter than the future chapters. I will try and update as soon as possible, and if you could comment or whatever you do to give feedback, that would be great! I hope all of you enjoy! Happy Reading! -Zenovia

Armin's POV

Intro

This world is sometimes too complex to handle. Everything can change in the blink of an eye, and I won't be able to experience that. I don't understand much about the complexity of the universe and the whole "living life to the fullest" thing, but trust me, I'm trying my hardest to grasp hold of what information I can. Sometimes I think that it's sad that I'm a college student still trying to figure out what I will amount up to in life. Sometimes I think that it is pathetic that I still have an existential crisis every time I think about my future. But hey, that's just in my nature. Armin Arlert, that's me, the boy who is trying desperately hard to write about something awe inspiring, all while trying to look for something inspirational.

I don't know how to explain things very well, I have always been the kid in the back of the class with his hand raised waiting for the teacher to call on him but yet never gets called because I would stutter the answer. Society would call me a "virgin" but I like to think of it as still trying to grasp the idea of love. In high school, I never had any friends. Sure everybody knew of me but, nobody ever knew me. Yes, I am a little depressed, but not to the point of going to extreme measures. I'm just lonely. I crave for the attention that everybody already has, but for some odd reason, I can't seem to have it. Maybe it's because of my girlish like complexion, but I can assure you, I am most definitely a man. Although, my tormentors in high school would beg to differ. Whenever I hear the idiotic rhyme about "sticks and stones" and "breaking bones" I cringe in memory. Trust me, the names stick longer than the bruises and cuts ever will.

All I wish for is a friend. For some people, if they had the opportunity to have any wish granted for them in the blink of an eye, would wish for money, power, love, a superhuman ability, or immortality. But what I crave most in this ungodly world, is a friend. Somebody who can finally understand all of the mysteries of the universe that I can't seem to wrap my head around. Somebody to tell me that I'm not insane for thinking the way I think. Somebody who will tell me when I'm doing something wrong. Somebody to trust, somebody to care for, somebody to feel normal with.

So as I am sitting here, alone on this particular empty train, back to my empty dorm room with my computer flashing its huge big, white, blank screen at me, I start to ponder what it would feel like to finally find my footing. To finally be able to type what I have been trying to say to myself for almost nineteen years of my life. To finally be able to accept me for who I am, and not have the endless record of those ridiculing names playing over and over in my head as if they were background noise to everything I have ever decided in my life. To be able to thrive and enjoy life in my own skin. To maybe find a lover. To maybe be happy. To have a first kiss before I wither away into nothingness, to be successful in my writing career, to be able to look in the mirror, and not be ashamed of who I am.

I chuckle to myself by realizing how much my inner introvert comes out when I am on the train ride home. I simply decide to try and focus my attention on the constant drumming of music that is playing through my headphones. I find the perfect song to describe my mood. "Creep" by the band Radiohead. As the pulsing drum and guitar vibrate my mind with its melodious tune, I can feel a presence of eyes staring at me from the opposite side of the second floor of the train that I am on. I tell myself I dare not to look because the last time I dared to do that, I nearly got pummeled to smithereens by a man almost three times the size of me because he thought I was "eyeing his girl." But my curiosity wins over my logic once again and I look through the corners of my bright blue eyes, and I nearly fall right out of my seat at the sight I'm greeted with. My eyes are locked onto two bright gleaming emerald eyes who are looking right at me. And for the first time in my life, I finally feel visible.