Walking Time Bomb
December 16, 2005
There are some people who put on one of those cheery faces and smile about everything, when inside their tick ticking away and ready to explode at the mere mention of anything that might push them over the edge. I suppose I’m like that, cause I don’t like acting all depressed in front of everybody. I know for a fact that nobody wants to be around someone who’s sad all the time. So I plaster on a smile and pretend nothing bothers me, and I save it for when I’m alone.
I haven’t exactly figured out of this way of “dealing” with things works, cause I’ve lost it a few times now. Those little shots to the ego that stripe away any pride or confidence I may have had at the time seem to do it best for me. The funny thing with me is I personally think I’m a wonderful actress, I can put on a smile and laugh about things and people won’t relieze theres something wrong… unless of course, they know me too well. I admit, with some people my act doesn’t fool them. I guess you could say I’m as fake as those girls at school that belong in the “popular” group, but only so because I hate it when people ask me whats wrong. How could I explain it to them without sounding like Sarah*? I hate sounding like that, so I prefer to keep my mouth shut and grin and bare it.
My friend Caroline once gave me a quote that clarified what my blood sister Mandy always tells me. Girls are like apples, the best ones are at the top of the tree. Guys always grab the ones closest to the bottom of the tree because they’re to lazy to get out the ladder. But one day, someones gonna get out the ladder and climb to the top of the tree. All those apples gotta do is wait.
Sounds like a pretty strange quote, but it makes sense in a way. I suppose I’m “wise beyond my years” for several different reasons. I’ve heard my parents talking about me to their friends, and Shannon’s guilty of this too. She’s told me before that all her friends like me because of my “adult sense of humour”, really she means my sarcastic ways. I guess they can be amusing - when they aren’t directed at myself. I can see how that’s annoying, actually I’ve been forced to see by my sisters Shannon and Kathrynn during one girls night in. The events that happened were actually quite embarrassing for me, just them wanting to know why I was “unhappy”. I could start with telling them I’m a sixteen year old girl, and all sixteen year old girls throw shit fits over anything and everything, but that’s not the truth I guess.
How do you explain to people who are supposed to know you all your life the reasons behind your tears? You can’t. The only person that gets me completely is Mandy (the girl in that picture), because she knows what it’s like. She’s been there done that, she knows how it feels to be seperated from everyone else and she knows how hard the struggle to fit in is. I don’t even have to tell her whats on my mind because she already knows. Except Mandy’s strong then I am, she’s a better person then me. Just yesterday I was trash talking people who think I’m their friend… Mandy never does that. I have never heard her speak mean words of anyone in all my years of knowing her, which are one more then knowing Jessica Dawn. Mandy has faith too, faith that one day we’ll both find someone who will accept us for our very notable flaws. That hope went down the drain for me, along with the confidence I had managed to somehow gain when I was with Brandon, the only guy that ever made me feel pretty, the only guy that I ever actually believed liked me. But alas, good things don’t last in my life and it turns out he was only dating me for all those lovely boy reasons. So scratch that hope, and I’m back to being little miss darkness with no confidence and fake smiles. I love it so much, don’t you?
It’s not that everyone doesn’t try to get me, it’s just pretty hard. Jessica Dawn tries really hard, and I think she’s about the only one of my friends who has come within a mile of the point. She’s stood by me through surgeries, walking with me when I had those pathetic crutches and helping me make up lies so people would stop asking me why I walked with a limp, or needed crutches. I am grateful for her, it’s just awkward talking to her about the stuff that really bothers me.
I’m just tired I suppose. Tired of being in this body, but as theres nothing I can do about it, I’ll put on a smile and pretend I’m “normal”.
