I’ve been thinking lately, about people and personalities and personas and truth and fiction and real… real people. I wonder if we try to pass ourselves off as something we’re not. I wonder if the friends we meet and keep are the friends that know everything about us. I wonder would they run away if they knew everything about us.
I often wonder if our awkward junior high school personalities take hold of a spot somewhere in the back of our minds — just sitting there… wreaking havoc on our adult psyche’s just as it did when we where 13. My hair, my clothes, my smile — my friends aren’t talking to me right now, the boy I like doesn’t know I exist, I can’t keep up with my homework, I want to call my friend desperately and tell her I need to talk to her… not just anyone, but to her right now. I want to grow-up and be confident and secure… I want to not be 13 anymore. And then we realize… we’re not.
I recently started this blog (you knew this didn’t you?), I recently reclaimed some old friends from high school and college, I recently found the joy of twitter — all things I was able to do from the comfort of my home and with the help of this keyboard. All these things give me experiences to share, to somehow try to explain… to find a word simple enough to describe the euphoria, the heartache, the pain, the laughter, the friendship. To describe the crushes and the cliques and the cool girls — how? How did we describe junior high? Exhilarating, breathtaking, heartbreaking.
I sit here, alone… comforted by the silence that surrounds me and I type. I type a funny story to a friend, I type condolences to another, I type “I need to talk”, I type a joke… I type. And you read. You read and you decide who I am — and I think you’re very close, I truly think you’re very close. I hope you see me as flawed, as sometimes angry, as sometimes ridiculous, as sometimes comical, as sometimes needy, as sometimes completely secure, and as sometimes in desperate need of a hand to guide me. Because I am all those things — here when I type. I’m all those things here, alone in the silence. I’m all those things when I’m standing right next to you and I’m all those things when you stumble across this blog.
This is me.
I am real.
Who are you?
Photo from Yes and Yes