Perhaps the worst thing about being an introvert is desperately wanting to be an extrovert.
Tonight I feel so dreadfully alone, it has become hard to breath.
My best friend and I are no longer best friends. There is a strange hollow in my chest that is somehow tight. It takes hold of my lungs and shortens my breath. I do not miss her, but I miss having a her.
I have spent the majority of my high school career in the shadows, waiting patiently for someone to turn on the light. I realize now that no one will turn on the light: only I can. The only problem is, I can’t find the switch.
I want to be able to talk to people without feeling like I’m doing it wrong.
Beautiful girl, where have you gone? Where did that smile go? Your big, green eyes have lost that light.
I have asked you to get help. To tell the mother you wish you didn’t have to get you somewhere safe. You haven’t done anything I have asked.
One day, I hope that you will see the beauty you have trapped in your heart. I hope that you will let someone see it.
Instead, it is buried by a bitter dirt, but it is still there. It is still waiting in a dormant state.
I hate that you don’t see the way your hair seems golden in the sun. The highlights catch the sunlight in a way that makes it sparkle.
Beautiful girl, I need you back. Brush away the bitter dirt and bring back the light in those eyes. Let the sunshine make your hair into strands of gold. Realize your worth.
Your arctic ice eyes could bring the world down with just a glance. The passion in your heart will always bring a smile to my face. The freckles you hate are the mark of the sun that kissed your skin. I will always miss you. I will miss that summer we swang on the metal swing set and looked up the stars, hoping we could fly away. I will miss your laugh that filled the room. Last I saw you, those eyes still shone brighter than any star that shone above us. Your passion made me want to hold your thin frame, in hopes that a fraction would fade into me. Your freckles were more prominent than ever. All your features still held true without me. You are doing fine without me. If you had really looked at me that night in May, you wouldn’t be surprised. My eyes still glaze over when I talk to people. My face is still pale and sickly. My passion is still dwindling. I wish I still had you. I wish I could still call you a friend. I wish you saw me as a friend. Please don’t ever change. Please continue to give the world the hell it deserves. Please always be the kind and strong girl I love.