Do you know what I hate about you? Your need to be heard.
You want to be the center of attention. The way you feed into it like it’s this adorable pet you own is sickening. Not understanding that the attention you seek is an enormous dragon wanting to devour everything in its path. Sadly, you’re blindly giving yourself up as a five-course meal in hopes someone will acknowledge your existence.
There’s this thing where everything has to be debated and argued. Every choice a person makes put under a microscope to be dissected. It’s like everyone is a thing to someone else.
What I learned about things is that people feel entitled to own them. No wonder, I feel my thoughts aren’t my own. Or that the thoughts that are mine aren’t allowed to be spoken. This is the problem with your need to be heard. I cast myself to the side and put you in the center.
You must understand that I’ve never been a “people person.”
Not once have I sought enjoyment from big crowds. Parties are truly the bane of my existence. People take up entirely too much space that I feel claustrophobic. And there’s never a door where I can escape fast enough through as people follow. They’re always asking questions I never have answers to.
‘Why are you so quiet?’ follows me everywhere. What’s worse, I feel I need to answer. Should I say it’s ‘people phobia?’ or that I’m allergic to human beings? Do I look back to my childhood and try to find some trauma that made me believe keeping my mouth shut is my best option in any situation?
I don’t know how to answer that question. And since I don’t know, I stay quiet. When the truth is, that instead of an answer, I have a question of my own. Why do people need to hear themselves talk?
Then again, maybe I should ask myself why I try to make sense of what they’re saying. My biggest problem is that I listen too much. Following a conversation is difficult when nothing important is being discussed. So I try to find solutions to problems that no one is searching for.
Here’s my question to you: Why can’t I just be an introvert?
I hate having to explain myself when you don’t understand that I like silence. That I feel understood speaking to a brick wall than to anyone who comprehends my language. Besides, a brick wall never asks for understanding that you feel entitled to. My superpower is existing even when no one knows I’m there.
Being an introvert to most people means I allow myself to be the victim. That if I’m alone for too long, I’m suffering from loneliness. And you love being the hero, don’t you? I’m supposed to see your cape and give you all the praise for rescuing me.
Thank you Superman, I was just a little hermit crab hidden away from the world and now I have the attention of the entire animal kingdom. However, is it because I’m this pretty little crab that sparks interest or because I’m at the bottom of the food chain surrounded by hungry predators? Who knows and who cares, right? As long as you know I exist, I won’t be alone.
I say, what I suffer from isn’t loneliness but judgement. It’s like my worth as a person is nothing unless you tell me otherwise. Which goes back to the question you ask me, why are you so quiet?
I still don’t have an answer for you.
In fact, I’ve stopped looking for an answer a long time ago. I just put earphones in and listen to music. I ignore your endless blabbering and stop listening to your meaningless words. I’d rather listen to music as it’s the best form of communication. I don’t have to say anything. It seems music has the superpower of knowing what I feel when I can’t form the words to express it.
If only, you had this power. If you did, maybe then, I’d talk more.
Or even better, you’d be okay if I didn’t. �8