Midnight walks cold nights and thoughts in the head floating. Gone memories she could barely recall. Dreams she knows she won’t behold. Beautiful worlds, background noise to her thoughts. Was it the passion she always looked for or just a new obsession to not deal with her what was bothering her? She had a simple and easy life and yet it made her unfulfilled. The classrooms were closing in on her, their walls kept narrowing down and the people occupying them were multiplying. Everything bothered her, their laughter, their complaints, their presence. She only wanted quiet, she wanted peace, she wanted herself. Most importantly, she wanted new beginnings. To begin again as someone new, somewhere new; to be freed from her shyness and insecurities; to become bold and unapologetic.
Midnight walks and avoided calls. Everyone irritated her. She was moody and it bothered her. She would pretend on days and not talk at all on others. She wished for company, yet preferred her own. She was surrounded yet alone, hoped for friends who would understand her references, discuss her favorite books, or laugh at her jokes. She grew up invisible. Teachers and classmates alike don’t recall meeting her. A boring face suited to a blank personality. No charm, no wit, no beauty. She saw herself as inferior so no one bothered to notice her. She walked head down and focused on the daydreams that filled her mind and kept her entertained for two decades now. She holds on to past little joys the same way Jack held into his wooden door. No talents, no smarts, no skills. I guess she’ll have to hold on tighter from now on. Her body aches from her little care. Vision’s troubled, breath’s short, arms’ weak, and run’s slow. Gym class was the worst weekly meeting she had to go through.
Midnight walks where she recalled discussions with her mom. Both needed it, none actually got it. She wouldn’t take it from the one who gave her everything. Help: having to elaborate for long hours on one’s problems. She doesn’t even know them and surely doesn’t want to face them, or talk to a stranger about them. So she obsessively thinks about everything that happened to her and refuses to move on. Refuses to forgive herself or the people she loves until she resents both and ends up alone. Home seems like a nostalgic overplayed song. So she goes on midnight walks try to find solace in her pitiful life and pretend her thoughts may be interesting if only said out loud.
