One Week, One Weak
The past seven days I have had my eyes opened. Now I know. Somewhere along the way, my relationship turned an abrupt corner, and I just now realized it. I've learned that I am alone. For real this time. There is no longer someone in my corner; someone rooting for me. I no longer get the benefit of the doubt. I am no longer defended. I am no longer innocent until proven guilty.
There is no room for leeway anymore. In order to maintain some semblance of stability, I have to pretend I like being put in predicaments that are uncomfortable. I have to eat shit with a smile on my face, or else. Or else it's the stake or the rack or whatever else they do for crucifixions and witchhunts.
I see now that there are sides that I didn't know existed, and no one is on mine. I am stuck at the top of the teeter-totter, waiting for everyone to jump off and slam me to the ground. And then laugh at me. At my ridiculousness. At my insanity. At my irrationality. And talk about me when I'm not there. And wonder how I got so fucked up.
It's like being back in second grade. Back when I was the third or fifth or seventh wheel. When no matter how many people were present, I was always the extra. When people got picked for teams, I was last. When people came to sit at the lunch table, I was asked to scoot down so the interesting fun people could sit down. When I talked, no one heard me. The only attention I got came from my uncool clothes and the egg salad sandwiches in my lunch bag. The egg salad tauntings left me so traumatized, I cannot eat it to this day. I used to like it. The only people that liked me were teachers, because I could always provide an enthusiastic answer when everyone else was comatose. Which of course brought even more grief to my corner.
I always seemed to fit in with the teachers better. Even when I was an angst ridden rebellious teen. My, how things change. Now the teachers even look at me a bit sideways. Because that's where I am. On the side. Like parsley.
Someone more deserving, engaging, sensitive, observant, fun, witty, or possessing a je ne sais quoi (which I, of course, don't) is catapulted to the limelight of even a teacher's attention. So I'm again (or still) the outcast, and not with a K. And I'm now acutely aware of the fact that I am my only defense. No one else will do it. Interesting week. Or is it weak?
There is no room for leeway anymore. In order to maintain some semblance of stability, I have to pretend I like being put in predicaments that are uncomfortable. I have to eat shit with a smile on my face, or else. Or else it's the stake or the rack or whatever else they do for crucifixions and witchhunts.
I see now that there are sides that I didn't know existed, and no one is on mine. I am stuck at the top of the teeter-totter, waiting for everyone to jump off and slam me to the ground. And then laugh at me. At my ridiculousness. At my insanity. At my irrationality. And talk about me when I'm not there. And wonder how I got so fucked up.
It's like being back in second grade. Back when I was the third or fifth or seventh wheel. When no matter how many people were present, I was always the extra. When people got picked for teams, I was last. When people came to sit at the lunch table, I was asked to scoot down so the interesting fun people could sit down. When I talked, no one heard me. The only attention I got came from my uncool clothes and the egg salad sandwiches in my lunch bag. The egg salad tauntings left me so traumatized, I cannot eat it to this day. I used to like it. The only people that liked me were teachers, because I could always provide an enthusiastic answer when everyone else was comatose. Which of course brought even more grief to my corner.
I always seemed to fit in with the teachers better. Even when I was an angst ridden rebellious teen. My, how things change. Now the teachers even look at me a bit sideways. Because that's where I am. On the side. Like parsley.
Someone more deserving, engaging, sensitive, observant, fun, witty, or possessing a je ne sais quoi (which I, of course, don't) is catapulted to the limelight of even a teacher's attention. So I'm again (or still) the outcast, and not with a K. And I'm now acutely aware of the fact that I am my only defense. No one else will do it. Interesting week. Or is it weak?
posted by Ocean | 9:10 PM
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