Somebody sat on me again

These words are cliché and unexciting. They are only trying to convince myself that high school doesn’t have to be the best of times that I keep hearing about. That it’s ok if it's not. 

I’m the girl who doesn’t even go here. Who just has a lot of feelings.

I’m Anne Hathaway. Waiting for someone to see me when I’m invisible.

I’m Julia Stiles. Cynical of this joke called high school to be over, but secretly just wanting Heath Ledger to sing to me while being chased out of the stadium.

I’m Emma Stone dancing to A Pocketful of Sunshine by myself on a Saturday night, always knowing that John Hughes will never direct my life.

I’ve always wanted to be the one smiling and saying hi to ever other person. I still do. Because that’s who I am. But high school disagrees with me. I just want to go to a game and yell at the top of my lungs, and hear everyone around me yelling the same thing. But I’m still waiting for someone to ask me to sit with them.

All of these adults keep telling me it’s my fault. I need to make the first step. I need to reach out.              I think it’s been a while since they were 18.

But there is one. One who pulled me into a tight hug and told me I know. And I believed her because of the daisies she kept giving me. I believed her because of the white chocolate raspberry cake, and the card that kept writing onto the back page. I believed her because she knows what I need. Because when she was in high school, she never got it.

She told me High School can be the hardest thing we go through. And I need to be ok with that. She told me to stop listening to what these halls were telling me. She told me to stop believing that it’s because people don’t like me. It only means that this is not my time. And maybe I’ll just have to work a little harder to get through each day. One at a time.

This is my thank you to her. A thank you for letting it be ok that I don’t fit in. Because my time is still in the stars. Not yet ready to be shot. And maybe the longer I wait for my time, the longer more light will have a chance to seep in.

I’m happy for the stars of high school. The ones that are a part of something. But it may be harder for them to say “I will never be here again.” Not me. For me, it’s a proclamation. A promise of hope. A chance to be in a place where the quiet one is comfortable enough to say something funny.

And if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get that white chocolate raspberry cake recipe. And maybe I will be the one helping the outcast break through the judging walls. And I can give them a moment of peace. Because constantly convincing yourself that you belong is too exhausting.

This is me acknowledging that I don’t eat in the commons. This is me acknowledging that that’s ok. And this is me hoping that for some of us, when high school is over, there will be a little extra light in our eyes. An extra light that proves we kept fighting against those words, looks, and lack of looks.

Thank you for making it ok to play the role of the one who doesn’t always stand out.