Friday, May 11, 2012
I am alone. Nobody understands me. They act like they do, but they don't. Even my closest friends don't. They don't like the same things as me, and when I try to talk about my interests with them, they don't listen. They change the subject, or ignore me. They don't believe what I say, no matter what I'm talking about. They didn't notice when I became more reserved, less outspoken, at least to them. They didn't notice when I started humming to myself, when they weren't talking to me, or getting more absorbed in my books, to compensate for their silences. They didn't notice when I stopped talking to them as much as I used to, or when I started to branch off into more studies and less social time. They didn't notice when I stopped hanging out with them, because they wouldn't include me, and I would just trail behind, feeling like an extra wheel. I hope they notice now. Now that I'm leaving, our last times together dwindling as the weather grows warmer. I hope they notice before I'm gone, and they can't do anything about it.
Posted by Lifebooks at 6:44 PM