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Posts Tagged ‘awkward’

This is a quick short snip-it about me. But I do have a point at the end of all of it, so read anyway!

I am a solitarian. I don’t even know if that’s a word, but if it isn’t, I’m making it one right now.

I am the awkward quiet one that you know is nice so you’ll say hi, but you don’t invite to stuff. If the others start leaving, eventually they all leave until I’m left by myself…AGAIN.

I am a listener. I’d rather listen to someone else talk, or listen to the radio or sing. I’d rather hear about you than talk about me. I’d rather you pick where we go to eat or what time we should meet up for coffee. There are times when I’m really craving something, or “I’m hungry now, so let’s go eat in fifteen minutes” type thing. But when I say, “I don’t care,” it’s not to be nice. I literally DON’T CARE. I am a follower, not a leader, except for a few cases here and there when I don’t mind leading.

I was scared about my major for a long time. A lot of times I feel like my writing sucks, sometimes it really does suck, and sometimes I just don’t wanna write. But it scares me because I should be writing more than I do, but I don’t. I watch movies and TV shows or sometimes read a book instead, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but watching movies isn’t going to get me a career.

Now I’m realizing that I watch the movies and shows because I adore STORIES. I love making my own stories with people I wish I could be, people I’m glad I’m not, people I’d love to have as my best friend, parents that shouldn’t be parents, handsome funny guys that I wish would ask me out, the popular girl who you’ve always wanted to cut up her clothes and hair with a jagged scissors because someone who is such a bitch shouldn’t look so pretty.

I was the one in the marching band, the one who had a loud cheer, but was too scared to be a cheerleader because I didn’t like being out in front of crowds.

I’m not even smart enough to call myself a nerd. I was in volleyball for 7 years, but I didn’t make the varsity team, so I’m not a jock. I can play guitar and flute, but I’m not a musician because I’m not good enough to show off anything. I live on a hobby farm, but I’m not what you’d call a farmer. I can snowboard but I’m too chicken to go off any jumps because I still fall sometimes. I’m not a social butterfly or an artist or a skater. I’m not stylish, and I’m not someone you go to for a good laugh, though I have my funny moments. I’m just kinda good at some things, but not great at anything.

I’m not getting knocked up, drunk out of my mind, or wearing tiny shorts that barely cover my butt cheeks. I’m bigger than that. I’m smarter than that. And it’s about time I stopped feeling sorry for myself and realize that just because I don’t have a lot of friends, doesn’t mean I don’t have a couple of really good ones.

I am a somewhat solitary person, but I wasn’t made that way by accident. Someday, some dude  is gonna see something in me that I will probably never figure out myself and walk me down that aisle in a wedding dress that I have been dying to go shopping for, and I’ll be the bride of a good man with ambitions, family oriented, and likes the thought of  waking up next to me for the rest of his life and grow old with me; and not the bride of someone I figured I should marry because I’m having his baby.

This girl may be kinda pathetic in more ways than one, I might be too good at making awkward situations, and I’m not always as talkative as I wish I was; but you know, if we were all jabber-mouths, we would get annoyed with each other for not ever getting to say anything.

Only YOU have the power to doubt yourself. Everyone else simply has opinions, and we should let them be simply that–OPINONS.

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I legitly love people. I moved back to college for my junior year 2 days ago and as I sit looking out my window, a bunch of the new freshman are just outside by the sand volleyball court and pond, grilling hot dogs, playing volleyball, playing bean bags, chinese ladders, and sitting in circles on the grass talking and hanging out.

The Bible says that above anything else, we are here to love people. If you can bring someone to Christ, bring them out of the pit of poverty and help them back to their feet, or just put a smile on their face for the first time in a week, awesome…but we need to love, and looking outside, I only know five out of probably seventy-five people that I see, but I love them. I don’t know them, but I don’t need to. I see what God must see when He looks down on us–the life in our eyes, the smiles on our faces, even the limp in our legs. I don’t know if that guy is wearing a vikings Tshirt cause he actually likes the Vikings, or because he got it for free ; I don’t know if that girl likes volleyball, or if she’s just playing because her friends are; I don’t know if that guy is playing beanbags cause he wanted to, or if one of the guys dared him into playing. I don’t know anything about any of these people, I can only make guesses.

I’m not a creeper, I promise, but there is something soothing about watching people. As a writer, it is basically my job to watch life, watch love, watch the sun rise and set so I can describe them in my writing. I need to see deeper than what the eye glances over, see the piece of gum squished by a thousand high heels and dirt-stained tennis shoes because someone was too lazy to walk an extra six steps to a trashcan. The eye misses so much. They don’t know I’m watching them from my dorm room window. If they looked up here, they might be able to see me, even though there is enough daylight to make glares, but they are too busy talking to friends, flirting with guys, and living what they know as their lives.

Most will go back to their dorms, maybe a few to rooms with quiet roommates that make things awkward, maybe a few to the student center to flirt with whoever else they can meet. If I knew them personally, a couple would probably annoy me, a couple may make me blush, a couple may even turn into good friends, but for right now, I love them if they were my own kids.

Learn to love everyone, and when you look out your window, maybe you will see the beauty that I see, the casualness as they fling a frisbee, the way they lay on the grass and read a book. So normal, yet beautiful. Beautiful people.

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