People change all the time. Some for better. Others for worse. However, sometimes the way others change can effect you. And as a result… you change in order to adapt. Although the way you change doesn’t bother me; I sometimes have a yearning to speak once again to the you, from the past that brought me much pleasure to know.
Occasionally,I’ll be at my desk with a heap load of homework and suddenly “ping”. Your name appears on my phone. I’d smile. because that name brings me many memories. But one in particular that I seem to take the most interest in. That one that always seems to amuse me. The memory of when we first met. : )
I think this was before I even took a liking to you, or rather wanted to take a liking to you. We sat there motionless and speechless. The atmosphere was getting more and more awkward as the seconds past therefore I decided to take the initiative to go ahead and start a conversation. Idiotically yet predictively I asked the most stupidest question! “What do you wanna be when you older?” I asked in a considerably stalk-ish manner never the less, you still replied. “Uhm… I really haven’t thought about it too much, why? what do you want to be?”
Typical. Should’ve guessed a shy person such as you would respond in such an irritating; annoying; high pitch; innocent voice. I already disliked you, and I barely knew you so I decided if I kept dragging on about what I want to be then I wouldn’t have to listen to your caustic-like voice! So I went on and on…and on about what I wanted to be until I repeated myself at least ten times!
Subsequent to my answer was yet another silence that was almost enough to kill my brain! I hated these weird moments where there was nothing left to say as I was more of a flibbertigibbet.(a person who is chatty. It’s a real word believe it or not. Damn I love that word.) And you were more like the…air? You were there. We could sence you presence but we couldn’t care less. So eventually, after what seemed like hours of excruciating silence…you opened your mouth to speak (THANK GOD).
“I want to be someone who helps others… like a mentor, or a psychiatrist!” You said. I couldn’t tell why your voice was so shaky because your back was to me and you were looking out the window. I wanted to say something but for once I had no riposte then suddenly like you knew what I was thinking, you said.
“I’m usually misunderstood. I feel like no one understands me. And if they do, I’m afraid. I don’t know why. But… I feel like if I listen to other people problems, understand them and give them successful advice. Then I won’t need others to understand me, I’ll be able to handle it all by my self. Plus… there’s that thing of being able to help others…giving them the hope that I’ve never seemed to have. That reassuring thought that ‘ hey, it’s okay, I’m not alone because someone understand me sort of thing. It’s weird but that’s just how I see it” You paused momentarily. To take a breath and think; why would you need to think? I’m the one that’s sitting here spell-bound! Your words were like an antiphon sung sweetly and effortlessly hence why I was somewhat dazed.
“It sounds stupid right? But I want to help heal others, even if I’m still bleeding,” The last verse of a woeful song had been sung; the audience cried deep within their heart. That was what it’d had felt like. You turned around to look at me, the last specks of sunlight shining behind your head like a halo. And you smiled at me, with hopeful, hurt, bitter-sweet eyes which pierced my heart.
You’ve changed since then. A lot. You’re now more fierce and firesty…stronger. Yet weaker in some ways too. But recently, that side of you reappeared. You sat next to me once, you avoided eye contact with me at all cost and said:
“I’m hurting,people judge me, before they even know me. They hear things about me and don’t even try to see it from my point. They ask me why, I’ll tell them. And they hate me. Yet they pick out my flaws, and make me feel so pathetic. They act like their hurt. Yet I’m the one whose unsure of how to trust, and love becuase I’ve lost many people close to me. I feel deceived. And just remembering. It hurts. I’m hurting,” when I turned to see the expression on your face. I regretted it. Your face all pale, your gazed fixed to the floor, your eyes. They seemed crystal-like with hidden tears behind them. Your expression all together… a weeping warrior? Crying for what had been lost in a battle. My heart melted… I could do nothing but watch in pure anguish.
People may call you fake, But that’s only because they haven’t given you the chance to show them you’re real. And it’s their loss. because in actual fact… you’ve only changed to be what you are. Because they changed to hide what they are.
And if they liked you in the first place, they’d like you always.
But even I sometimes wish… people wouldn’t change…
(Sorry It’s Such A Crappy Post)