Wendy Stories

Facades: WenHope (3)

The minute Hoseok and I walk to class together, everyone turns their head. I guess they think our friendship is weird yet expected, if that makes sense. I hang out with the non-popular kids who are shy like me. He hangs out with the well-known crowd who are outgoing and wealthy. They're not mean, but I wouldn't want to be friends with them; they don't realize how people are feeling.

Then again, most peope don't. My friends don't notice, either. But they do ask me from time to time if I'm doing well or about my plans. Albeit, they probably only ask since I rarely talk. Hoseok was right about that. He wasn't right about me not paying attention to my friends, though. I pay lots of attention! The quiet ones are the most observant. 

Sometimes I wonder why I'm unhappy. I have everything I want—shelter, family, food, education, and friends. Perhaps it's because of my friends. I don't have much in common with them besides being shy. Maybe I'd add to the conversation if we had some similarities; maybe they'd detect my fake smile; maybe I'd be happy; maybe I'd give a real smile.

As far as my dreams go, I know they're not happening. I'm stuck with this feeling and this fake smile. My friends actually like my fake smile, though. A lot of people do, for that matter. That's why I continue giving them, I suppose.

Now that I think about my friends, I realize I'm the problem. I'm so reserved that I shut people out. I never tell my friends how I really feel or about my plans. They always try to include me—in conversations and plans—but I just close myself off. I want to reveal my innermost thoughts and feelings. I really do, but I can't. I'm not ready. For this change. I hate change.

So why am I not hesitant about hanging out with Hoseok? We're going to be friends—or maybe we already are. I don't know. Is it because we're similar, in a way?

Hoseok wants to hang out with me. At the playground. On the swings. I accept.

We walk there after school and he beats me to the swings. Good thing there's another one! Otherwise, I'd fight him. Just kidding.

Not really.

He plops onto the swing and starts moving his legs back and forth, creating momentum. He is now swinging to his heart's content. I see that smile again. That real smile.

I do the same thing. And I feel amazing.

After a while, we stop to take a break. It isn't fun to swing continually.

He interrupts my thoughts. "I can't believe you're that shy. Don't you want to tell your friends things? Or is it because you space out?"

I huff. "I pay attention to my friends! I just don't engage in the conversation is all; I am shy."

"C'mon, they're your friends! You can talk to them."

"I don't have anything to talk to them about. Even if I did, it wouldn't be about books or video games, but rather," I look at the ground, "what I'm feeling."

"What are you feeling?"

"Despondence."

"You lost hope in what?"

"I lost hope in my happiness."

He nods his head slowly. "I'm in the same boat."

"Elaborate."

"I had a girlfriend; she died in a car accident. Things just weren't right afterward. My friends and I aren't the same. There is a hole between us. Nothing has filled it in yet." He looks up at the sky, almost hopeful, but sadness counters it.

People will normally apologize in the case of Hoseok's story, but that doesn't help.

"You know, you can talk to them."

He laughs. "I do talk to them, unlike you."

"I don't think they can handle my negativity."

"Stop acting like you're a pessimist."

"Still, I don't think they'll understand. I'll just be a burden."

"Anyone will be lucky to meet someone with 'baggage'."

"Why?"

"That makes them even stronger. Having to deal with challenges. Who knows? Maybe they can relate or help you."

"You say that as if your friends support you."

"They do."

"So why don't they focus on you when you smile?"

"I talk to them. Since I open up to them, they don't suspect my smile. But I guess I want them to. I was pleasantly surprised when you figured it out." He gives me a huge smile. It makes my heart flutter.

"Your real smile is nice. Your fake one is, too, but it doesn't compare."

"I can say the same about yours." I return a huge smile.

And then I start tearing up. I think about what he said earlier. I need to open up to my friends. They want to help when they ask about me, but when I lie, they don't want to push it. I can't just isolate myself. As humans, we need to be social. We need to be honest. And—quite frankly—I haven't been honest. Honest to myself.

Hoseok wipes the tears off wraps me into a hug and I grab him. I cry even more; I let it all out. I hate crying, but this feels great. Having someone hold you while you bawl your eyes out. He strokes my back. I love it.

When I release myself, he stares at me. My heart is beating rapidly.

"I haven't felt this in so long—love," he says.

Now he's the one who's tearing up. I embrace him in my arms, where he belongs. He embraces me back, and I find my home.