I can't cry. So I let the false rain pour over my bare shoulders, holding my knees to my chest...holding myself together.
I remember as a child, I didn't care much about my appearance. I never brushed my hair, and it was always tied back in an infinite pony-tail. My clothes had tears all over, from carelessly wandering outside. I was klutzy, too, so there were many scars to match the tears in my clothes. Aside from the tears, my wardrobe was a mess. Not that I cared, I wore whatever I could get my small hands on the quickest.
I'm not sure if I should be proud of my childhood, or ashamed. I don't even know if it really matters. Honestly, I started to care when I found love interests. It was about the same time I hit puberty as well. Typical, I suppose. It hasn't been very long since then, maybe a year, three? I lost count.
Anyway, now, I'm here. Sitting. Letting my 'tears' pour over me, run down my back, my legs. I can't move, and frankly, I don't want to. I just want to sit, and cry...or at least, cry as best I can. Do you want to know something funny? The word tear, it's both something that runs down your cheek, and that little patch missing from your favorite jeans. I wonder if that's why my clothes were so torn up, as a child. It was my way of crying, then.
Certainly, though...no one notices when I cry. Why should they? They don't look, anyways. They don't know how, and I don't plan to tell them. I don't really want people to notice me, I don't really enjoy the attention. I suppose you're sitting there, reading this, asking 'Why?' right? Well, it's either disastrous, or negative.
You see, I've always been that ever-happy quiet girl sitting by herself enjoying every aspect of life without a care in the world. People are so ignorant. Did everyone know? If you have money and a pretty face you have a perfect life. This rings true if you seem like you have those aspects. I have neither, honestly. Also honestly? That's bull shit.
I really shouldn't complain about my life though, I'd feel somewhat...what's the word...arrogant? I mean, it could be worse. It's not really that bad, even, if you were outside looking in. I always thought though that perhaps, I have a mental condition, or too much stress....something, anything. Or perhaps that's me just trying to compensate for how dumb I am to think I have it bad in the slightest. Ah well.
I wish, these tears could wash away scars left by the pain that produces them...that might be nice. I don't have many scars, actually, only two major ones...from incidents I had as a child. Sometimes though, I can feel my skin burn with the ghost of a never existent scar.
I let my hair down, just now, over my knees. I never cut it, so it's long. Down to my waist, just about. I used to be afraid of cutting it...sometimes I still cry. Stupid, isn't it? Ah well. Another secret? I'm afraid of men. Not to say I show this, as I'm almost always surrounded by them. If you ask why, I'd have to say in general because they're stronger, than women that is. I mean I bet there are women out there who could kick a man's ass, but I have yet to meet one.
Humans are scary in general, though. Being consumed by desires and capable of so much...if only they try. Some never come out of that stage of ignorance though. This is why the world is filled with ignorant adults, who probably couldn't survive if left to their own devices, in some deserted place...even if they had the resources necessary.
I can move now, so I'll stand. My legs are sore, from sitting like that for so long. I turn the knob in front of me and the false tears stop...how nice, a switch, to turn off your tears...The small room I'm in is steam-filled, but that's alright because it's nice. It's been cold out lately, you see.
I don't really want to be close to anyone right now, I'd rather be alone...but that frightens me, so I'll sit with someone in silence. That person won't know it, but it comforts me quite a bit...first though I should wrap myself in fluffy blanket-like fabrics, that soak up all the tears from my body. It's nice to have a tissue, to wipe your eyes after a long cry, right?
I can't cry. I wish I could. Sometimes...I think I need it.