When the naturally gifted kid meets the academic burn out, seeking validation.
☆彡⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂ミ★
Genesis Sikazwe had always felt invisible, she was always "the other sister" and for the longest time it felt like she was always born to play second fiddl...
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I sat all by myself at lunch the next day, as I often always did. I had grown accustomed to the solitude, being alone with my own thoughts, I often found myself wondering whether or not I'd be able to recognise the exact moment in which my solitude would metamorphose into loneliness. Would it be when the cool breeze felt like a frosty chill? Or maybe when I turned to my right and the space beside me on the park bench seemed more vacant than usual? Perhaps when I had far too many thoughts than comfortable to simply keep to myself. Maybe then I would accept defeat, accept that the poets were right all along– that everybody, even insufferable self-deprecating girls like me need a friend.
I had never allowed myself to imagine how different my life would be if I didn't have crippling social anxiety, If I wasn't constantly in a state of fear at the mere thought of being perceived by others. I always assume that they're thinking the very worst about me, I grew up believing that I was born with this fatal flaw of sorts that someone would someday unveil in front of everyone and they'd all realize that all along I had been nothing but a fraud. That I was nothing like the others, no matter how hard I tried to blend in my mask wasn't made of the finest silver or gold, It was made of plaster and chipped at every edge. Or perhaps It was transparent, and all along even as I tried to lurk amongst the shadows but they could see me. And they had been laughing at me, poor little girl, they snickered, no disguise is smooth enough to camouflage her damage.
I often found myself wondering where exactly It was that damaged goods were supposed to go. Did they have a safe place in this world? Because what people often don't realize is that what is damaged was once pristine and untouched on the highest shelf.
I glanced down at the lunchbox in front of me, I had packed myself a peanut butter sandwich and some green apple slices, and I had a lemonade juice box that I'd bought from the vending machine. I watched as other students walked by in a motion blur, groups of friends and even couples. There was a pond beside me with bright yellow ducks fluttering above the water and I could feel them giving me dirty looks, I mean I obviously couldn't speak duck to save my life but I understood them well enough. I peeled some of the crust off of my bread and tore it up into tiny pieces before crouching by the still water and feeding them, I know that we're not supposed to– but if I were a duck I would want someone to share their PB&J with me. I was a little startled when the duck quacked in response, but I smiled afterwards in response.
