Alone

I find myself only reaching for a pen and paper(or in this case, keyboard and computer) when I feel most alone, wanting to feel like I'm needed, or merely wanted by someone or another.

Every few months, sometimes it takes a full year for me to feel this way,and then other times it can be in spaces of just weeks, or even days. Feeling like no one, not even one person would miss my being here. Like my existence interferes with peoples lives, almost like I irritate them with my presence.  Like I'm the person in the group that people like at the beginning, but only because she doesn't really say much, she's just there. Eventually, they forget about her,she's there,sitting between them, listening to their conversation,laughing when others laugh, even joining in with their discussions now and again, still no one seems to see her. She'll speak and words will come out,but they seem to miss the others eardrums. Almost like they need a hearing aid to actually hear her,to realise that she is really sitting there. Once she's invisible, it's hard for people to notice her. The only way of doing so,is when she'll say something hurtful, it could be as a joke, it's just part of her sarcastic humour, but it's not like they know that. She's been invisible all this time,why would they. That's how she starts becoming that nuisance, the one that should have stayed invisible, but decided to speak up. Unfortunately for her, the others heard the words in a completely different way. Unfortunately for me, I am her.

That's what I've come to realise, in my head that is. The reality of it is that I'm not actually a nuisance to anyone, I'm barely there to be the nuisance. When I am there, I might as well not be. I'm not invisible, if I was invisible, it would involve me being with them. Them. People. Friends, or so I make myself believe. I'd have to be around them more than once or twice a month, but I can't. When I'm with them, I'm not me,and that's not right. I don't feel like I can say what I want to say, but at times I feel completely at ease.

What? That's probably what you're thinking while reading this. What is this crazy girl ranting on about,in a post marked as a story. How is this a story you might ask? I don't know, but there's no where else for me to write down things like this without fear of it being found by someone,a friend. If you don't think it's a story, I think you're wrong. It's filled with the most honest feelings, descriptions of me. The writer. I may not be a very good one, but the thing is I'm trying.

If only I could try more often. Not when my head and heart are filled with negativity,but that's why I wrote this. Proof,that I seem to only reach for a pen and paper(or in this case a keyboard and a computer) when I feel most alone.

Author's Note

journal

Reviews

[madmocha]

Wow... anything I think about commenting on; style, flow, raw emotion, it all comes across to me sounding trivial. Trite. I wonder how many others read these. Can I ask you a favor? Sometime, when you are having a good day, when it's sunny and life is smiling; would you write something? I would like to see you once when you are happy, or at least content. :) If not, that's ok, I'll keep coming by to read whatever you post.

Geeze, I hope this doesn't come across as rude. That's not what I meant it to be.