The Door To The Beauty Of Life

Introverted Extrovert

I was everyone's best friend.
When I was three years old.
I said hi to everyone.
Everyone loved my sweet smile and the cute way I rambled on about silly things.

I was the funniest joke when I was 10 years old.
I was the girl scout that tried to hard.
My best friend wasn't very nice.
She made everyone feel bad about themselves.
When her family needed help mine took them in.
In return she gave me a eating disorder.

When I was 11, I cried to much.
A friend invited me on vacation.
But I like to call it hell.
I spent three days doing nothing but crying.
I cried because I was angry.
I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because I wasn't sure how to say what I wanted and that frustrated me.

When I was thirteen I lost my voice.
My own family had beaten into me that it was to loud.
My " friends" had convinced me it was to high.
My reflection even got sick of hearing me use it.

When I was 15, I was betrayed.
My best friend of 5 years.
Traded me for a boyfriend.
She decided all the good we had seen.
All the bad we lived through.
All the times we had each other's back. None of it mattered.
It wasn't important.

four months before my 18th birthday, I smiled.
I woke up one day and realized that for the first time in 3 years I was looking forward to a day.
I woke up and felt calm and not because I was numb.
I woke up and I felt safe.
I woke up and I wanted to talk.

A month later.
The very people who had worked so hard to bring me out of my shell. 
took that shell shattered it to pieces.
i had no where left to hide. 
then they turned on me. 
they beat me till my voice quivered.
till my heart bled.
my eyes loss their color.
my head loss its hair.

One day I'll be 50, and I'll look in the mirror. I'll see the lines dug into my skin by the years of crying. The natural frown of my lips from being to scared to speak up. I'll see the battle stripes all over my body from years of eating disorders and self hate. One day I'll look myself in the mirror and I'll be okay.

I was born a extrovert and I would have discribed myself as a social butterfly I loved people and people loved me. Now I'm a introvert, sometimes it hurts to get out of bed. Sometimes it feels like I'm being shot to have to carry a conversation. Sometimes I'm waiting to be hurt, or yelled at or left. I have gotten so use to being alone that I don't always like being around others.

I'm not a extrovert, but I don't think I'll truly ever be a Introvert either. I think I'm.just scared. Scared cause I'll never belong any where.