You want me to talk?
Ever since I was a toddler, I was taught to listen. Listen to mom, listen to papa. Listen to relatives and society. Listen to friends.
Listening to everyone I forgot how to talk, how to express my feelings. I forgot what it means to open up, what it means to pour my heart out.
Perhaps that is why I always listen to your stories, trying to find a piece of me in them. Perhaps that is why I love quotes, looking for words to describe what is inside me
You want me to talk, when all I do is to listen ?
You know there are a few things that you have always wanted to say out, put it on record, but never really did. I have always been a wallflower. I have tried to blend in groups and failed. Every single time.
Here are some facts about me:
- I am socially awkward. I have tried making small talk, but I have always failed. I cannot keep a conversation going. I absolutely lack those skills. I want to talk to people sometimes but, I don’t know the algorithm to do so. Even when I really want to talk to someone, I fail terribly. Initiating a conversation is a Herculean task for me. I am absolutely bad at keeping touch with people. This has cost me many of my friends.
- The world is a very lonely place to be. They say the idea of love or “the one” is overrated. You don’t need someone to complete yourself. You are self-sufficient. Wouldn’t it be nice though to have someone you could go back to anytime and talk about absolutely anything without any fear or hesitation? Isn’t this the “one” everyone seeks? Someone called “home”.
- Music? Dance? Never been able to truly appreciate these art forms. Give me dead silence over these any day. Coming to parties, let’s not even talk about it. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable than those trippy lights and loud music.
- I crave deep meaningful conversations. Not just talking but communicating. I feel that I often give out the impression that I am not very keen on talking. My social awkwardness reigns supreme. If only one could look through my mind.
- The thing that I hate the most? The fact that people build/modify their opinions about a person based on what others have to say about him/her despite already knowing and understanding that person. If someone is nice to me why should I believe you when you say that he is not a nice person. As long as he is nice to me, everything’s fine.
S: Why are you so quiet? You don’t talk much now, do you?
T: No. I don’t.
S: Why? What? Did something happen?
T: No. Not really.
T: I am scared.
S: Scared of what?
T: Scared of what I have become. Scared of the words that come out of my mouth. Words that I seem to have lost control over.
S: You know, you can talk to someone if you want to.
T: Yeah, I know.
S: Then why don’t you?
T: Doesn’t everyone have their plates full already? If I can’t brighten up their lives, I could atleast not dampen it any further with what goes on in my head. That’s the least I could do.
It’s strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book.
I was a wallflower.
I was an introvert.
I was not one of those kids people notice immediately.
I was a “nobody”.
I was one of those kids in school that almost no one spoke to because I always kept to myself.
I was insecure.
I was scared that if I try to talk no one would listen.
I recently read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and never has a book resonated with me on a deeper level
Contrary to the book’s synopsis, this is not the story about a teenage boy Charlie. Or a Sam. Or a Patrick. This is my story. And probably yours. The feelings we could never find words to recite. The thoughts we dismissed as our overthinking. The words that were left unspoken. The times we lost ourselves. The times we doubted ourselves. The battles we fought secretly. The days when “you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist.” This book captures all of them beautifully.
There are times in life when the sensation of being a spectator of life, rather than a participant in it becomes all too relevant. There are times when we feel like an outsider with no sense of belonging. As Charlie says, all we need to do is keep the faith and try pushing ourselves forward.
We are who we are for a lot of reasons. We cannot change someone’s past no matter how hard it may be for us to digest. If we love a person in our life all we can do is to accept what he/she has done or been through. After all, it’s our past that has shaped the present us. The past can’t be edited. What do we choose to do with our lives, where we do choose to lead ourselves. That is paramount.
This is a book that moved me miles. Miles that brought me closer to myself. Miles that made me understand that I am not the only one. That everyone has his/her “sob story.” That it’s perfectly fine to break down once in a while but, to give up ,that would be wrong.
So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.