It was one of those things. She would joke around with her friends about how she knew she would be forever or alone, she'd accepted it and was ok with it.
That wasn't true.
All the joking, kidding, claims of never having love was a cover, a cover for her biggest fear. The fear that she would never have anyone special, that she'd never know what it felt like to be held as though she was the most precious thing in the world. The fear that no one would ever ask her to dance to a slow song, that she would never experience being cherished by a man who held her above all others, that she'd never know what it felt to BE hopelessly in love, not just FALL hopelessly in love.
There was nothing special about her.
Nothing special that would cause a man to spare her so much as a second glance, so how on earth would a man ever notice her romantically? She yearned to know what it felt like to have a man care about her as more than just a friend. She had so many things she longed to share and do with a special someone that would never come.
Others around her asked her for advice and she gave it.
Deep inside she desperately wished to know what it felt like to have to ask for advice about a relationship she was in, instead of giving it to others. You would never be able to tell by looking at her how much she craved a meaningful relationship, the depth of her fear of never finding someone, the lonesomeness and longing she felt when she read or heard people talking about their wonderful relationships.
Humor was a good way to hide the turmoil that stirred within her heart.
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When My Muse Decides to Strike
PoetrySometimes I randomly get an inspiration for a paragraph or a subject that I want to write about. I started doing this in the notes of my iPod and decided to post them up here. Hope you enjoy!!! If you want me to write about something in particula...
