splashcat521
There I sat, eating dinner at a semi-classy restaurant. My table for one, out on the balcony facing the river screamed “LONELY LOSER!” in the faces of all passers-by. I saw other families, smiling and laughing and having a nice time. I saw some soon-to-be-couples, making the first move or reaching out to touch the other's hand. But there I sat at a restaurant near the port, staring at the sunset and wishing that maybe the softness and shine of the colorful sky will see me, peering from the heavens at the sad existence that is I, and will seep some of its beauty and charm onto me so I may lead its life, too.
I wonder if people can see the longing for this impossible event to happen in my eyes, with my head resting patiently on my hand, my stomach ignoring the salad placed before me. It seems the salad wilts when presented to me. I take no notice. The only things in the world are me and the sky. I urge it to follow my command. I've tried coaxing and I've tried pressuring, but none came to pass. I sometimes wish I could see me from the outside, so I could find out if I muttered, spoke or even screamed when asking the sky to help a man not worthy. To see from the happy, yet ever so shallow minds what it looks like to glance at a person and immediately define them as "crazy," "mentally challenged" or more commonly, "special".
None are true.
I have no mental conditions. I am an otherwise completely normal person, social until the age of twelve. What a scary age that was. Entering a domain not suited for me, where there are so many people that everyone picks and chooses the most important or talented ones and filters out the rest, instead of accepting everybody like in elementary school. In elementary school I had no talent. I was just the kid with all the Tonka trucks, or in 5th grade the one with the coolest pencil. In middle school none of those mattered. I had no talent. I had nothing cool, interesting or special about me. So I was befriended by no one.
I remember the sad days, sitting alone in History class in my all-too-square haircut, puffy vest that my mother insisted I wear, and enormous binder. My teacher would call on me when my hand wasn't even up. I wanted to respond with a grand answer, but I could usually barely respond with a squeak. I would have been a brain, a geek or a nerd. But instead I was a dip-wad because my handwriting was so illegible and my organizational skills were non-existent, I failed many assignments for either not turning it in on time, losing it in my binder or failure to print clearly.
Many days I would come in to class and my face, after a terrible sunburn, would be red and peeling. And kids, instead of teasing and making fun of me, said nothing of it and avoided eye-contact which stings most of all because (1 I can't defend myself and (2 I'm being treated like I have disabilities. Like an alien. Like someone who no one would ever be caught DEAD hanging out with.
And that was the other thing. I had NO friends.
I could befriend the jocks because I am skin and bones. I couldn't befriend the nerds because my grades were terrible. I couldn't befriend the trouble-makers because I was incredibly shy. I was socially a nobody. And nobody knows nobodies like a nobody.
And that was me.
...dude, can someone comment on this and tell me what they think?? Does it drag on too much?? I don't know how to write these things, I'M still in middleschool
There I sat, eating dinner at a semi-classy restaurant. My table for one, out on the balcony facing the river screamed "LONELY LOSER!" in the faces of all passers-by.