just something to pass the time...
she whispered something in her girlfriend's ear--they both snickered with their hands over their mouths, as if they were trying to go unnoticed when the game was to make sure everyone did notice, wanting to know the secret. the whisperer's name was heather, a pretty girl with blonde hair, blue eyes, legs up to here, and skirts the length of a pencil. her friend, tiffany, a brunette with notoriously attractive brown eyes and a walk that makes boys falter. me? me you ask. well, i sit in the corner, watching others. im just a plain beauty really; i have an athletically straight figure, soft smokey brown hair, green eyes of no particular significance because they're hidden behind glasses, my being too lazy to fuss with contacts. im not particularly delicate or feminine, i have no mysterious glint in my eyes, im not one of those girls with a master's degree in being playfully sexy as heather and tiffany do. people barely notice my existence half the time. i watch the two girls giggle in unison, flirting with guys across the room who seem to find humor in looks and glances. "judgers" my sister's friend called them once, jokingly, but it's true. they live to judge, its what they find momentarily amusing. their pride is their biggest weakness. most find that surprising but it is truth. why else do they whip out mirrors every 15 minutes to scan their hair and face? they're so insecure about themselves that they are left to judge others and gossip about the appalling lives of others. i notice the way tiffany flicks her long hair over her shoulder and then rests her chin upon her hand, leaning in to further the confidentiality of the secret. their voices become even lower now as they glance in my direction. it hurts a little, to have people talk like that, especially when they make it so obvious, making sure that you know they're discussing something unpleasant about you. i sigh thinking about how lowly their life is that they must find entertainment in something like this. i almost chuckle.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think, what to feel, what to sing, what to hope... I have changed so much... Could you still love me? Can you still be happy with me? I am different, I don't think I am the same person you fell in love with. My thoughts and dreams have changed... I have gone from knowing to... to... I don't know what. I used to think I knew who I am/was, but now everything is different. I can't help but think...thinkthinkthink, all the time, every second, deeper, questioning, wondering, deeperdeeper: what do you want? What have I done? Why can't I just leave it all alone and just live? Why do I have to think too far into things, why do I have to find a reason for everything? Sometimes things are just done or decided for no reason at all, just because they are or just because something is
felt. I now over obsess.
I can't believe you're not sick of me. I can't believe that you love the person that I am now as much as you loved the person that I once was. I had always hoped that I wouldn't change in the ways that I have. I had always thought that I could avoid it, but it is encountered too much. And you have rubbed off on me. I haven't decided whether or not I like it, whether or not the traits are my own, or whether they are just your traits that I have adopted because they're yours. Whether they are traits that I have adopted because they are apart of me or what I will be morphing into.
Sometimes I think it just might be better if I ended it, or if you ended it. That you would eventually find someone more compatible, more the person you're looking for. If you are looking for the person I once was, that has now mostly become a mask, a shell, but that seems to be what you have always been attracted to (I don't know, it may come back once I figure this out). I'm not sure if I can really make you happy, and I'm starting to wonder if you're thinking the same thing deep down and trying to ignore it, bury it, or persuade me into what you want.
I have tried to make you happy with who I am. I know that I do make you happy, but do I make you happy with who I am? Do you enjoy the person I am/have become... because that has not been so obvious, especially of recent.
Of late you seem to be focusing more on our differences than who we are. You seem to focus on beginnings more than endings. You seem to have opinions about things that you know nothing about, and it confuses me when you're so passionate because I feel like I should be sharing these opinions...
what...
A suggestion and a critique all at once:
Read Channel16's
Charming Friends, truth of young society explained in a gatsby-esque style of revealing truth beneath a culture/society's traditional and habitual practices of entertainment.
