Why Me?
Just the Average Struggles of an Introverted Girl and a Boy
So many questions in this broken world. Why is the sky blue and the grass green? Why is there so much evil and hate? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why can’t I stop thinking about you? My mind races through the endless possibilities. I'm in my car, relaying our conversation over and over, analyzing and dissecting every word, every syllable trying to memorize your face—your smile, your eyes. It’s kind of hard to forget. Did I say too much? I questioned whether it was real or I imagined our whole interaction. It felt so normal, like I’ve known you longer than a couple hours. I put my head in my hands and run my shaking fingers through my hair before pulling it back into a ponytail. I take a deep breathe as I see you drive away. You don't see me watching you, my stomach in knots. All I picture is us sitting together, unleashing more of ourselves than either of us ever imagined. Why is someone like you here with someone like me?
Most of my life, I’ve been ignored, shielding myself from the world around me. Words would hang on the tip of my tongue, but my mouth was snapped shut, not allowing them to escape. My silence has defined me, like it’s part of my name. It’s like a layer I can’t shed, no matter how hard I try to redefine who I am. I guess old habits die hard. I sit across from you watching the way you move, taking in your nervousness and uncertainty. You bite your lip and suck in a breathe as you watch me speak. You’re looking at me, really looking at me instead of through me and my heart pounds, trying not to babble uncontrollably. I can sense your awe as the words pour from my broken heart and I look down at the ground, unsure whether to continue. You lean forward waiting for me to continue as if I planned to hold you in suspense. I’m shocked and feel like an author toying with the reader, leaving the unenjoyable cliff hanger right when the story has you hooked. I shake my head and continue, finally looking you in your beautiful eyes. I’m captivated, unable to look away and it’s like we are the only people in the room. Who’s going to blink first? Not me, not if I can help it. You could say I'm a bit competitive. I’ve never felt more like myself than I did in this moment. I've never laughed so hard and felt more free. Can you tell me your secret? What spell did you cast on me to unleash my past, brokenness and all? How do you make me feel like this? I shouldn't trust you, but for some reason I do. I'm willing to show my colors along with the shades of grey. I don’t know how, but, boy you’ve got me hooked and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t let it go.
I'm driving home and every song reminds me of you. I never thought I'd be the girl that gets a crush on a guy this fast. There's a first for everything. The road blurs as I'm lost in my own head. Suddenly, I'm home and I don't know how I got here. I park and take a deep breath as I check my phone. His name flashes across and I can't contain my smile. Is this a dream? All I want to know is why me?
About the Creator
Carley Willmott
Just your average introverted university soccer player trying to figure out life all while trying to write her first best selling book. You could say I dream big, but I would never admit that out loud.
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Humans and other communities.
Hidden Happiness
The world in which we live, is constantly changing, and this applies even more so in these days in which we live. With the implementation of AI into the workplace, people are beginning to fear for their jobs. With the rumors of wars circulating across the globe people are falling into fearful states, that are spurred on by changes, the likes of which we have never in human history, experienced before.
By Kaylon Forsyth3 days ago in Humans
Intergenerational Anxiety
In the words of the poet William Wordsworth, "What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how." This quote beautifully encapsulates the profound responsibility that every generation carries - the responsibility to care for and pass on the knowledge and values to the generations that follow. However, this responsibility can also be a source of immense anxiety, as parents and grandparents grapple with the concerns of the future and the weight of their decisions on their descendants. This essay explores the complexities of "Intergenerational Anxiety: The Burden of Parents and Grandparents," examining the intricate web of emotions that encompass the burden felt by these individuals and the profound impact it has on shaping their perspectives and actions. Through a thoughtful and nuanced examination of this topic, this essay seeks to shed light on the experiences of those who carry the burden of intergenerational anxiety, and to illuminate the ways in which this burden can be both a challenge and an opportunity for growth and connection.
By Prince Waddlea day ago in Humans
The Reluctant Reporter
"You can't send me!" "There is no-one else. It's you or no-one, and that is not an option." Ameera looked at the fat paunch and florid face of her boss, a man who lived for the story and the kudos it brought him but who rarely gave consideration to the people behind the drama. When had he become so hard? She reckoned that by the end of the year, he'd be dead, collapsed from a heart attack and she struggled to conjure any sympathy in that moment and instantly felt ashamed at displaying the same lack of compassion that he had.
By Rachel Deeming5 days ago in Fiction
Thank You Female Product Companies For Normalizing Human
I was born in 1990. In May, smack dab early mid-year. I am quite LITERALLY the definition of a '90's' kid. I don't remember a lot of commercials from when I was younger, but I do know that growing up women in media were photoshopped, sculpted, and molded to be Barbie perfect.
By Hope Martin7 days ago in Viva
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.