MuraRengan
Banned via Warnings
Link to original post: A Real Smile
They say not to judge a book by its cover. It’s something I’ve always believed and disbelieved at the same time. I’ve believed it because I have always known that my outside reflects nothing about my inside, but I have disbelieved it because covers that I judge often turn out to be exactly as I had predicted.
I’d like to think that I have a talent for judging character. I can always tell a lot about a person by observing them for a few moments. There’s some method in me that even I don’t understand. I cannot devise an explanation for exactly how it works. The best I can do to explain is to draw comparisons and describe what it is that I see. But that’s not exactly something you want to hear from someone claiming to be as good at such a dangerous skill as judging people that you don’t know. But as you’ll see from this story, I don’t have much else to go on in this scenario.
There’s a girl that met last year, freshman year of college.Through some random chance we were paired up in some freshman ice-breakers. There was one little event, then everyone was sent their separate ways. Some folks opted to chat with the person they were paired up with, and I was one of them. We talked a bit, and she asked me about my interests. I said that I was a gamer. She asked, “What game?” I said, “Zelda.”
And instantly we were friends, sort of. She’s strange, but I’ll get to that soon. We played through Ocarina of Time together and had awkward lunch dates (if i dare call it that). One evening we watched Harry Potter together. Another, we went to a dance. She invited me to have Thanksgiving with her family. One more, we played Brawl together. It would seem that we’re going through the motions of dating or becoming a couple or whatever, but when you consider that fact that the things that I mentioned are the only things I’ve ever done with her over the course of 6 months, that idea goes out the window.
In truth, I’ve spent very little time with her. We kept in communiction with each other throughout the school year, but I almost never saw her. Sometimes she would text me and ask what I’m doing over the weekend. My answer was always, “Nothing” and so was hers. But she never wanted to hang out. Ever. I tried often to set up dates, but often she had already made plans. It began to seem as though this entire thing would be done at her convenience, so I left the plan setting to her, and you can already tell how that turned out.
At the very least, I wanted to talk to her. We talked through Facebook and text, but she’s not a very wordy person. Over the course of six months I still don’t even know what she likes other than Zelda and Harry Potter because I just can’t get her to tell me. When she texts it’s about school, how bored she is, or the ****ing weather. We haven’t had a single meaningful conversation.
I could take this time to start outlining all the ways that this could be my fault, but the general concensus amongst my male and female friends is that she’s being difficult. I’d like to believe that I’m doing my best to get something started and that she just won’t take the bait. In the back of my mind I tell myself that this has been a huge waste of time and that she’s crazy or something, but that ability of mine, to judge people just through observation, tells me that there’s something about her that meets everything I’d want in a woman.
Every now and then I check her facebook to see how she’s doing. She doesn’t get on much, but every now and then her friends tag her in some pictures. I look at them, at her, and there’s always something in it that makes me weak. I didn’t know what it was until recently. It’s her smile. I can’t stare at it for long, because it makes me feel some strange unrest, some guilt or shame.
In my daily life, I see people smile a lot. Normally, I like seeing people smile. I’m a funny guy (seriously), I make my friend laugh all the time. I go to parties, get drunk, and take pictures with the crowd. All smiles. I never have trouble looking at those smiles again on Facebook. Those are some of my favorite smiles.
But hers is different. There’s something in her smile that I can’t handle. There are other girls that I’ve liked, so I looked at their smiles on Facebook. They smile while they’re drunk. They smile in their nice black dresses. They smile with their significant others. They smile graduations. They smile in mirrors. Every single time that they smile it’s to show that they are smiling. They smile whenever they’re supposed to be happy. These are all the girls that you’ll find me in a picture with, smiling. I haven’t been in a single picture with her yet.
A long time ago I decided that neither party life nor alcohol are a permanent source of happiness, but I partake in both because they bring some good times. I like to watch what goes on a parties. I like to see guys hitting on girls and eventually taking them back to their rooms. It’s racy, and fun. Part of me wants to be that guy, but another part of me refuses to let myself hit on a drunk girl, even if she’s hitting on me.
I think about why girls go to parties. Why do dress up in sexy outfits? Because looking sexy is important to them. Why do they hook up with guys? Because hooking up is important to them. Why is hooking up important to them? I don’t really know the answer, but I’d venture to guess it’s because they want to be desired. They want to be able to say that someone wanted them. Loneliness. As the girls pour into the room, I sand see the loneliness on their faces. It’s all over them. I can tell who wants to hook up without ever saying a word, and I’m always right.
Those are the girls that I smile with, the lonely ones. It feels so normal to smile with them, because we have so much in common. The loneliness in them that breeds vanity and shallowness is in me too. I, too, want to be desired. I want to take a girl back to my room and do whatever. I want to look nice and take pictures with the pretty girls. I want to smile so that people can know that I was happy. It’s a hard realization to come to, but I’m as ****ed up as they are.
That’s why I can’t look at her smile. She smiles in fields of grain with her messy hair rolled into a bun, a loose tank top, shorts, and no make up. The smiles at all the times that I wouldn’t smile, because she never needs some external source, be it parties or alcohol, to make her happy. Just from looking at those pictures, I can tell that she’s at peace. I hurts to look at her smile because I know that I am not at peace. A large part of my life is centered around social goals and vanity. I make friends with people I would otherwise dislike because I don’t want to be lonely. I grind with girls because I want to feel a least a little desirable on a sexual level. I’m full of unrest that makes me unable to smile like she does. I couldn’t even pretend to smile like she does. I can’t comprehend how she can smile like she does.
But I still want her. That part of me that refuses to allow me to hit on drunk girls is that part of me that wants to be at peace like she is. It’s paradoxical because my desire is pushing me toward a path to where I would not desire anymore. I feel that if I had her I wouldn’t need any other impetus to make me smile. However, the part of me that delves in the doings of the lonely makes me feel shame for thinking that I deserve her. I feel that if I had her, instead of smiling like her, I might take her smile away. I have some confidence in myself that at the end of the day, the person I want to be more like is her, but who she is is so precious that I’m afraid to risk changing her.
It’s tough, and even through all this I barely know the girl. I haven’t spoken to her since summer started. I’ve been waiting for her to speak to me. That strategy is failing, and so is everything else I’ve tried. But I have learned something: it’s going to be harder to win her over BECAUSE she’s at peace. She doesn’t need me, or some other guy to show her attention. That’s why she doesn’t drink, and why she doesn’t go to parties. That’s why I see her so rarely, and why she almost never talks to me. If I’m going to win her over, I have to convince her that there’s something about me that she needs. God knows what that is, but I’m not giving up yet. In August, I’m going to try again.
They say not to judge a book by its cover. It’s something I’ve always believed and disbelieved at the same time. I’ve believed it because I have always known that my outside reflects nothing about my inside, but I have disbelieved it because covers that I judge often turn out to be exactly as I had predicted.
I’d like to think that I have a talent for judging character. I can always tell a lot about a person by observing them for a few moments. There’s some method in me that even I don’t understand. I cannot devise an explanation for exactly how it works. The best I can do to explain is to draw comparisons and describe what it is that I see. But that’s not exactly something you want to hear from someone claiming to be as good at such a dangerous skill as judging people that you don’t know. But as you’ll see from this story, I don’t have much else to go on in this scenario.
There’s a girl that met last year, freshman year of college.Through some random chance we were paired up in some freshman ice-breakers. There was one little event, then everyone was sent their separate ways. Some folks opted to chat with the person they were paired up with, and I was one of them. We talked a bit, and she asked me about my interests. I said that I was a gamer. She asked, “What game?” I said, “Zelda.”
And instantly we were friends, sort of. She’s strange, but I’ll get to that soon. We played through Ocarina of Time together and had awkward lunch dates (if i dare call it that). One evening we watched Harry Potter together. Another, we went to a dance. She invited me to have Thanksgiving with her family. One more, we played Brawl together. It would seem that we’re going through the motions of dating or becoming a couple or whatever, but when you consider that fact that the things that I mentioned are the only things I’ve ever done with her over the course of 6 months, that idea goes out the window.
In truth, I’ve spent very little time with her. We kept in communiction with each other throughout the school year, but I almost never saw her. Sometimes she would text me and ask what I’m doing over the weekend. My answer was always, “Nothing” and so was hers. But she never wanted to hang out. Ever. I tried often to set up dates, but often she had already made plans. It began to seem as though this entire thing would be done at her convenience, so I left the plan setting to her, and you can already tell how that turned out.
At the very least, I wanted to talk to her. We talked through Facebook and text, but she’s not a very wordy person. Over the course of six months I still don’t even know what she likes other than Zelda and Harry Potter because I just can’t get her to tell me. When she texts it’s about school, how bored she is, or the ****ing weather. We haven’t had a single meaningful conversation.
I could take this time to start outlining all the ways that this could be my fault, but the general concensus amongst my male and female friends is that she’s being difficult. I’d like to believe that I’m doing my best to get something started and that she just won’t take the bait. In the back of my mind I tell myself that this has been a huge waste of time and that she’s crazy or something, but that ability of mine, to judge people just through observation, tells me that there’s something about her that meets everything I’d want in a woman.
Every now and then I check her facebook to see how she’s doing. She doesn’t get on much, but every now and then her friends tag her in some pictures. I look at them, at her, and there’s always something in it that makes me weak. I didn’t know what it was until recently. It’s her smile. I can’t stare at it for long, because it makes me feel some strange unrest, some guilt or shame.
In my daily life, I see people smile a lot. Normally, I like seeing people smile. I’m a funny guy (seriously), I make my friend laugh all the time. I go to parties, get drunk, and take pictures with the crowd. All smiles. I never have trouble looking at those smiles again on Facebook. Those are some of my favorite smiles.
But hers is different. There’s something in her smile that I can’t handle. There are other girls that I’ve liked, so I looked at their smiles on Facebook. They smile while they’re drunk. They smile in their nice black dresses. They smile with their significant others. They smile graduations. They smile in mirrors. Every single time that they smile it’s to show that they are smiling. They smile whenever they’re supposed to be happy. These are all the girls that you’ll find me in a picture with, smiling. I haven’t been in a single picture with her yet.
A long time ago I decided that neither party life nor alcohol are a permanent source of happiness, but I partake in both because they bring some good times. I like to watch what goes on a parties. I like to see guys hitting on girls and eventually taking them back to their rooms. It’s racy, and fun. Part of me wants to be that guy, but another part of me refuses to let myself hit on a drunk girl, even if she’s hitting on me.
I think about why girls go to parties. Why do dress up in sexy outfits? Because looking sexy is important to them. Why do they hook up with guys? Because hooking up is important to them. Why is hooking up important to them? I don’t really know the answer, but I’d venture to guess it’s because they want to be desired. They want to be able to say that someone wanted them. Loneliness. As the girls pour into the room, I sand see the loneliness on their faces. It’s all over them. I can tell who wants to hook up without ever saying a word, and I’m always right.
Those are the girls that I smile with, the lonely ones. It feels so normal to smile with them, because we have so much in common. The loneliness in them that breeds vanity and shallowness is in me too. I, too, want to be desired. I want to take a girl back to my room and do whatever. I want to look nice and take pictures with the pretty girls. I want to smile so that people can know that I was happy. It’s a hard realization to come to, but I’m as ****ed up as they are.
That’s why I can’t look at her smile. She smiles in fields of grain with her messy hair rolled into a bun, a loose tank top, shorts, and no make up. The smiles at all the times that I wouldn’t smile, because she never needs some external source, be it parties or alcohol, to make her happy. Just from looking at those pictures, I can tell that she’s at peace. I hurts to look at her smile because I know that I am not at peace. A large part of my life is centered around social goals and vanity. I make friends with people I would otherwise dislike because I don’t want to be lonely. I grind with girls because I want to feel a least a little desirable on a sexual level. I’m full of unrest that makes me unable to smile like she does. I couldn’t even pretend to smile like she does. I can’t comprehend how she can smile like she does.
But I still want her. That part of me that refuses to allow me to hit on drunk girls is that part of me that wants to be at peace like she is. It’s paradoxical because my desire is pushing me toward a path to where I would not desire anymore. I feel that if I had her I wouldn’t need any other impetus to make me smile. However, the part of me that delves in the doings of the lonely makes me feel shame for thinking that I deserve her. I feel that if I had her, instead of smiling like her, I might take her smile away. I have some confidence in myself that at the end of the day, the person I want to be more like is her, but who she is is so precious that I’m afraid to risk changing her.
It’s tough, and even through all this I barely know the girl. I haven’t spoken to her since summer started. I’ve been waiting for her to speak to me. That strategy is failing, and so is everything else I’ve tried. But I have learned something: it’s going to be harder to win her over BECAUSE she’s at peace. She doesn’t need me, or some other guy to show her attention. That’s why she doesn’t drink, and why she doesn’t go to parties. That’s why I see her so rarely, and why she almost never talks to me. If I’m going to win her over, I have to convince her that there’s something about me that she needs. God knows what that is, but I’m not giving up yet. In August, I’m going to try again.
