Sunday, June 10, 2012

Juvenille...

"She still speaks to the little girl who wanted to be an artist, a doctor, a poet, a wing-walker."
Currently:
Watching: Fairly Legal
Listening: "Mirror" by Barlow Girl
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Have I got it?
'Cause Mirror you've always told me who I am
I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect
So sorry you won't define me
Sorry you don't own me

Who are you to tell me
That I'm less than what I should be?
Who are you? Who are you?
I don't need to listen
To the list of things I should do
I won't try, I won't try

"She listens when that little girl talks, when she paints pictures of the clouds, when she draws something huge in sidewalk chalk."

I often find myself talking about this little girl. I tell stories about her. I talk to her. I remember her. And I wonder what happened... to me.
With all the events that have happened this spring, I find myself thinking about her more; because she is getting farther and farther away. And so is her character... 
Because if I were honest I would say this:
I am actually on the shy side. I would rather wait for you to come to me, and am rather embarrassed to share anything about myself at first. The whole reason I started this blog was because I wasn't able to say the things I write on here out loud. I read something earlier today that defined an introvert as someone who feels like they lose energy when spending time with others, as opposed to an extrovert who gains it. I am of the first variety. Shocking I know.  But I have spent so much time on my own over the years it's hard for me to be any other way. Which is why after a year and a half of being home, I have yet to make any friends that I actually hang out with and talk to on a regular basis. Or why the concept of a relationship is at times terrifying. I'm paranoid like crazy. A nervous wreck. I doubt myself all the time. Wonder what is next. Often play what-ifs, shoulda-coulda-wouldas, and why's.


guide to understanding the introverted

And I want that little girl back.
The one that didn't care how many people actually took the time to call me. Who bounced from play to play, to be any character I had the opportunity to play; from Pocahontas to a grandmother. The girl who could say hi and have a friend in an instant. Who was always busy. Bold. Confident. Fearless. The one who didn't have to worry about self-esteem. The one who didn't give a crap about appearance. Or health. Or weight. Or what people thought of me living with my mom. Or what my relationship status was. BUt most importantly I want her faith. Because there was never a doubt in her mind, that God was the beginning and the end of everyday. That God would provide. That God was enough. More than enough. Heaven help me, bring me back to her. Please...

"She makes every day a place for old dreams and new dreams, dreams that tower and dreams that whisper."

I am her.

1 comment:

  1. love this post sweetie...
    i have felt this way so, so often lately...
    thanx for putting this all so beautifully...
    ur blog has seriously become a highlight for me because i realize i'm not alone...
    i love you girlie!!!

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