Do I Belong

Do I belong ?

The smooth forgiving wind blows around me, tossing my hair to the side, though it doesn’t take me away from my thoughts. It doesn’t help that every thought is on trying to calculated every move, to perfection, to precession. To correct every imperfection about me, to be molded into these hollow, emotionless girls. That worry about boys. That worry about make-up. That worry about what next party they are going to and if they are going to ‘hook-up’. Is this really what I need to become ? To at least noticed?

This bench, even it has people that love it. People that use it. I place my hand down and feel the grooves on the old wood, outling the markings ‘B + D foreva’. Yes even this non-living dead tree feels the sort after emotion that I crave; love. Did I do something wrong? Was it my fault that I was born different. That I was slightly odd. That I was to not give him what he wanted. That I stood up and believed that I was better than that. Is it me who was at fault ? Is it me who should of given in and been like the girls. I didn’t know, that small bit of courage meant that I would be left alone. Left depraved of love. Of friendship. Of care. Of the warmth that came with every hug.

The air around me begins to pick up as I sorrowfully sigh. I collapse my head into my hands and shake slightly. Do they know how would it feel to not even belong to your own family ? Would it make you feel sad, maybe a little upset, no it would make you feel like an outcast. What if everyday was filled to the brim with a variety of grey shades while everyone else got to experience the beauty of colours and life, while you stayed behind. In your little shell wondering what you did wrong ? What did you do, to have the whole world against you, even your own family.
Sure they say that they love you. But are words now the supplement for the longing in my heart? Do I have to beg and plead for a single kiss on the cheek ? Is the love and affection of a mother really that much to ask ? Do I ask for too much ?

Here I sit on this love filled small wooden bench, to myself. No one around me. Only me and the tears on my cheeks. This retched feeling is too common to me. I feel it most days but then there are those days when there is a glimmer of hope. That I may, finally, may be able to be happy and belong to those people who call themselves my friends. Just that shinning beacon of freedom, makes me believe in myself – Maybe I can be like them. I can be just like them.
Though alas fate does not smile on those who aren’t classified as ‘normal’. That sparkiling star of hope is taken away is a split second. All those little happy thoughts, of love, friendship, acceptance, are ripped away and obliterated. Am I to never feel love ?

A little droplet awakens me from my in depth thought. I look up and see silver clouds darken with anger. I close my eyes and feel the rain begin to drop down. I gather myself and walk away from my place of solitude. Even the mother earth cries for my pitiful soul. Fate has determined my path in life. No matter how much I implore, it will never be changed. I guess I will never be normal. I’ll never be like them. I’ll never have another person make me jitter with happiness. I’ll never feel like I belong. I’ll never feel the warmth of those hugs I desperately yearn for.
As I walk in the rain I begin to feel the corner of my mouth twitch. At least this time fate has been merciful and the creation of my own little droplets, on my cheeks will be hidden.

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