Ashamed to cross paths with the ever so stomach-churning idea of imperfection, I took a turn for the worst.
I. became. limited. And as for the joys and the lights of life, we mustn’t forget the time when they slowly but surely burnt out into what became all work and no play. With only fourteen years under my belt, there should have been so much more to come with those lights that have spiraled into such a disturbing period of darkness.
And this time around, it was not that I’d been pushed over the edge by our society, nor by my unbearably pessimistic mother. Not even the tragedy that was my Aunt’s slow and painful death, could be blamed on or used as one of those on my never-ending list of excuses at a time like this. Instead, the root of it all depended upon one thing, and one thing only: a someone.
This someone is a person whom can be their own worst enemy, when in actuality, she has only herself to rely on to play the role of a best friend. A dedicated introvert to say the least. A girl with a broken smile, shattered into hundreds, possibly thousands, of pristine, fine glass shreds. There lurks a fear in her eyes with every glance, and a heartbeat that continues at a constant all-time high. Shaky hands and nervous twitches, those that come out alongside the awkward. Partners in crime, they could very well be. And the awkward occurred quite often, unfortunately. But “unfortunate” shall remain a mere adjective among a sea full of many.
Worried, panicked, nervous, alone, over-emotional, and some may even dare to say, a tad bit insane.