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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/736396-Day-5-Smile
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1810186
For she who forgets must now remember her tale...
#736396 added October 9, 2011 at 8:42pm
Restrictions: None
Day 5: Smile
WORD COUNT: 838
(Written in first person)

I am not prone to being serious, and yet I am the person who perhaps takes life the most seriously out of everyone one I know. To me, life is a gift; it is something to be treasured, cherished, lived fully. It is a piece of art to be appreciated and studied, every ounce of meaning to be ripped from its belly like guts for tripe. It is a song not to be listened to, but experienced, completely and with abandon. It is meant to be felt with one's soul.

My family believes that I do not live life, that I am squandering my gifts, as they so eloquently put it. Perhaps they are right. I definitely feel like I'm not as successful as I could be. I feel like there is this wall between me and true life, a place of darkness and silence that stands in my way, keeping my body and my awareness separate from my soul. It is an unpleasant place; a place beyond unpleasantness, lingering in unbearable isolation. Imagine what it's like to be missing a piece of yourself and to know exactly where it is. Imagine being able to see it, being so close as to almost touch it and know everything about yourself and your place in the universe. That is where the nothingness is; where is stops me from reaching my own self.

That all sounds rather depressing, doesn't it? It is, of course, depressing to be cut off from a large chunk of yourself, but only when you're reminded of just what you're missing. It is a lack of understanding, is my problem, and that understanding is of myself. I do not, however, suffer from any infirmity of mind or body. And I do not spend my life reminding myself and others that I am some woe-begotten spirit lost in the moors of misery or something else like that. My life is no Byron poem. Hell, it's not even a Tennyson. It's really not that bad. I just don't fit in with myself.

My sister says I am uneasy with my bones, or whatever that means. Really, she'll look at me and shake her head, saying, "Stop being so uneasy in your bones, sis. Ain't no one here going to do you harm."

And I smile because Lara is the closest thing to a kindred spirit that I have on this planet. It's not that I'm not close with my family--I do have a tendency to avoid my parents, but that's almost to be expected when one is the disappointing issue of a great couple-- and I am quite close to my big brothers, but Lara is the one I turn to in need. "Maybe they're just a bad fit. Maybe I'm adopted!"

"Like hell you are. I was there when you were born, dummy."

"Switched at birth, then." I usually keep smiling, mind churning out outrageous situations like Medieval woman popped out kids. "Abducted by aliens, tested on, and returned to earth all in one night. Maybe I'm not even human! I am really, really ridiculously..."

"Say good-looking and I'll smack you. I hate that movie."

"Me, too. But it's got some awesome lines. No, I was going to say weird. But I could do the face."

"No!" Lara sighs. I grin again. "Just don't. No wonder you can't get a boyfriend."

That usually manages to wipe the smile off my face, but sometimes I remember to keep it plastered on there just so I don't upset my sister, or let her realize that she has upset me. I am not good with men, not like she is. She could have had just about any guy she wanted, too, if she didn't prefer to play the field and have fun in her youth. Eventually, she would settle down and start a family of her own, and she would have the choice of any man when she finally did so. I...well, she was right. I couldn't get a boyfriend if I tried. And I did. I was just horrible with men. "I'm just waiting for a man who's enough like me to be willing to take me as I am."

Lara smiles at me. "I know, hon. I know. But give the guys a chance, yeah? No one can be expected to wade through crazy awesome Lyn the first time they meet you."

I shrug. "I beg to differ. When I meet him, he'll be just fine with me as I am. And I'm content to wait as long as need be until someone is willing to put up with all I have to offer."

I am not prone to being serious, like I said, but sometimes I can't help but think I take life more seriously than anyone else. And maybe finding the man of my dreams isn't the highest of all my priorities, but often I wonder if he'll be the one that frees me to finally hear and dance to and live my own song.
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