Understood

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   We all say that we're misunderstood.  We all say we're different.  We all complain that no one understands us and we whine and seek attention from our rareness.  Moping hormonal teenagers usually make up a majority of the population of those attention seekers.

   Luckily, I myself am a moping hormonal teenager.  However, I am one of the few that are "understood". People "get" me.  Everyone I meet is certain that what they see is what they get. They are surprised that I actually am a person and not another face. They are even astonished when they learn that I don't like them in the least bit.

   Most classmates keep their distance, not wanting to waste time to befriend someone they already know and understand.  Of course, my personality keeps them away too. I have a speech impediment, and not a soul will stop to let me tell them that it is no way linked to my mental capability, which is secretly above average. The few that get close to me, I usually drive away with incessant invasions of personal space and clinginess.  I also tend exaggerate stories and fabricate my own to make friends to cure my lonliness.  No wonder people love me.

  I'm attracted to the opposite sex, of course, yet fear I their touch.  Every romantic thought I have, petrifies me in real life.  My love life is screwed up now because of this.

  The way that I've described my life so far, there's a subtle hint of pity seeking.  Although pity is nice, it's not what I want.  I don't want to play the victim, since I'm far from it.

  If you'd like to hear about the life of a dramatic introvert in the form of a teenage girl, do read on.  If not, I wouldn't disagree with you, I'd read something else. 

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 09, 2014 ⏰

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