Sometimes I feel like a fucking stereotype. The sad, shy, not so popular, nerdy, kind, somewhat helpful girl sitting on her bed and complaining about how fucking lonely she is, writing a sad poem in her journal while looking wistfully at something from the past, hoping that moment will come back, fully aware of the fact that it won't. Or searching for some sort of inspiration to finish that awfully cliche poem that, like every other poem she's ever written focusses on some trauma that technically she just made up in her pathetic little brain that couldn't stand the thought of anything in the universe not being about her. Ignoring how she made this out of her life. Ignoring that she's the problem and sometime in the future she's going to have to acknowledge that, but not today. No, because today's special. Today's the day something magical will happen. Or it won't. It'll just tease her by existing for someone else. No, maybe it's deeper than that? Maybe she's just not looking hard enough for happiness? Maybe she just has to find the right guy to make her feel whole again, yeah sure maybe that's the bullshit she should believe today. So that she can blame her incompleteness on something! Something that isn't her. Because taking accountability is hard and she never really wanted to learn about it anyway? Hell maybe if I stared out of the window just right it'll start raining, complete the mood. Make it about the atmosphere. Or maybe about the boyfriend who makes her feel like she's suffocating sometimes because he actually cares which is more than she can say for most people in her life? Because that's rare? So it's his fault! It's his fault for being there, for existing around her, she needs someone who'll really understand her. Really get how she feels. Someone who doesn't make her feel important because he has his own baggage to deal with and she's not quite that fucking problematic anymore. Yeah, that's probably it. Unless it isn't. No, maybe she needs to get out of her sad, shy shell and become the popular girl, maybe then it'll be okay. Once she's completely changed herself or at least until it feels like that and then she'll be fine. Then her story will be complete. Hell, maybe she's not even the main character in the story, maybe she's the nerdy best friend who was never supposed to be anything more than that? She's just going to end up with the second best guy and the second best life because she's not quite as important as she'd like to believe; as important as the suffocating boyfriend makes her feel. The guy she totally has to break up with because that's going to be her moment. Maybe that's the moment she's searching for when she looks for inspiration for her poem. Maybe that's the moment she looks out of the window for. Hoping it'll make its way back to her?
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Stolen Pages
Teen Fiction~Her words were my poison. I used them to consume myself. Disturbingly honest. Painfully strained. Carefully penned down. Dangerously addictive.~ A journal that landed in the right hands and told a whole story with words, no lips could speak. Two...
