- Hearts, minds, and general romance
- March 9th, 2010
I am eighteen years old. Still young in the eyes of some, very much old and useless to others. I offer my age to you only because I am eighteen and never once dated. Ever. In my entire life.
What's wrong with me? Am I ugly? Maybe. Am I too nerdy? Possibly. Does hair grow out of weird places on my body? God no...though time and age will tell if it ever will :) I believe that I am average. I'm not some skiny model who has tall, gorgeous legs, a butt someone would kill for, big breasts and hair that makes the room suddenly shine whilst sprouting flowers like those shampoo adds. I'm not pretty, I'm not smart and damned if I can find my way around a city..let alone my own backyard. I am Emma. Plain and simple. And this Emma has yet to find her 'romeo' her 'white prince/princess' her 'one and only love' and though some people may think 'wow, eighteen and still alone. Poor kid.' I laugh.
Yes it's true. I have been, and probably will be alone for a while still. I guess my nature is not that which young men these days are looking for. I don't blame them. We all want some good looking thing that we dream up. Women are just as guilty as any man. We do it too ladies. We say 'it's all about soul, personality' yadda yadda yadda. Yeah, and we all fly around on pigs sprouting rainbows out our asses. Get real. Before personality comes the looks. The blonde hair, blue eyes, muscles overflowing, six pack abb machine who surfs and has deadly gorgeous features. And when we sit next to Mr. Lanky, pocket protector and glasses man on the train, we don't look twice. We're all guilty. Me included. :)
I've seen friends, people I love and cherish in my life, partner up and break whilst I watch from the sidelines. I've watched them fall head over heals to have a small, if not insanly large, part of them crushed. And I've always tried to pick up the pieces and glue it back together. Trouble with glue is it doesn't hide the cracks. I am glue. It's almost my middle name. Glue. And I love being it. I don't love watching people suffer through the heartache of something that is new to me, and trying to place myselves in their shoes, delicately dancing around certain aspects I've never been introduced too. I don't like when I'm asked. 'HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?' Because I wouldn't. I assume, I guess...I try.
I'm an empath by nature. My body, mind and soul absorb the emotions of another. I adopt the suffering and pain of someone and take it as my own. And as I've grown over the years, so has my tendancy to adapt and evolve from a person who always cried with someone, to someone who can't cry at all. When someone comes to me, or I go to them, in their time of need, my body goes into shut down mode. Without me knowing, my emotions become null. I'm void and feel less. I'm numb and out of control of any emotion that may enter me. And so...for as long as someone is suffering, so am I. I know what you're thinking. 'What a weirdo.' Or 'what an attention seeker, why the hell is she telling us this?' You may think what you will. I won't stop you, and I don't blame you. My own friends have called me worse. I am telling you thise because, people deserve to know. Many a time people believe that they are the cause of my sudden emotionless existance. And if not emotionless then they believe I'm suffering from insane depression. I'm not. I'm merely copeing with the strain of empathetic responsibility. And as my friends, you all deserve to know that. :)
No one, ever, has hurt me without intentionally ruining me. No one has laid their problems on my shoulders and left me to drown. So as my friends you are to never assume my demise is of your own fault. It's who I am. I've accepted it...and those of my friends have too.