words are tsunamis, yet we splash them around like puddles.

“words are tsunamis, yet people splash them around like puddles.” hell like yeah.

“you are cold and somewhat cocooned.” while this is somewhat true, I am yet to think of anything that has made me question myself as much. I think by now, most of you know that i am an introvert. so it goes without saying that i am not good with people. i suck at making friends. and i don’t really care, except when i do. and this time i did. ever met someone and you just felt this mental connection? i repeat, mental connection? i mean, the first time you had a conversation you talked about god and religion? and i was recommending “the art of seduction” to him even before i knew his second name. he got me cracking jokes about climbing a tree so i could get sufficient connection to e-mail him one of my favorite poems. i was e-mailing him my poems, when usually i don’t even tell people my second name. hell, my parents don’t even know i write. and on Christmas eve, we were cracking dirty jokes about animals mounting each other and things along that line. and then he called me cold and cocooned. and i told myself i didn’t care. but that was probably because he said it at two in the morning, and despite my self-induced insomnia, some parts of my brain had switched off. but then i woke up at six in the morning, and standing alone in my rooftop, shaking and gritting my teeth, i remember feeling dysfunctional. and a few months later, some parts of me still feel alone and unwanted. those are the same parts of me that wanted to explain to him that i am not cold; i just have trouble expressing emotion verbally. and about being cocooned, i am just not very good at meeting new people, that i had loved meeting him. but like i said, it was just some parts of me. the rest of me just smiled and still pretend not to care. the rest of me actually doesn’t care.

“you are so weird.” maybe i am. i have too many rugged jeans for my own good. i hate combing my hair and even when it’s braided, it’s barely held into a bun or anything decent, let alone attractive. and sometimes, i deliberately look hostile. most people find me scary and intimidating, and candidly speaking, i like it that way. i like dark red lipstick, i feel like it adds onto this scary vibe i got going on. i like taking walks at one in the morning, and a lot of times i just sit in the dark and listen to my heart beats try to keep up with my destructive thoughts. but beneath all that, i am nice. i am too generous for my own good. and i try not to judge people. see, my logic is, we are all sinners. i am not going to judge someone for sinning differently. and i would kill for my sisters. bottom line is, i am an all in or all out kind of girl. i either feel too much or feel nothing at all. and that is going to be my undoing. so maybe it shouldn’t sting when someone called me weird. but the problem is when someone doesn’t really know you, when there are thousands of adjectives they could use to describe you, they chose weird. they chose, odd and unusual. they chose not fun and boring. they chose annoyingly opinionated and dangerously stubborn. they chose to remind you that you don’t fit in. they choose to rub it in your face and have a good laugh about it. they chose to remind you that it doesn’t matter how beautiful, strong and smart you are, you might end up alone anyway. see, they did not choose different or unique, they chose weird.

see, it’s the smallest words that will break your heart. trust me, i know.