One Shot Stories

Similarly Different

This is my first one shot story.

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It was always beautiful here. Golden leaves were falling and I tried to catch one of them. I ran through the path - my arms spread wide. I didn't care about the people around me; I never cared. I felt like I'm a child again but the difference was I am happy. Happier than everyone, happier than anyone could be.

I guess life's challenge really made me stronger, made me believe in myself, made me accept that I don't need everyone's approval to become who I am.

I remember when I waited for so long, for someone to appreciate me. No one ever called me handsome, nice, or strong. I might sound immature but that was what I knew I wanted before.

"Hey. You're handsome." He would mimic me.
"Thank you." He would repeat what I said.

I always ask my mother, "Why do I need to stay here? I want to help Dad." She used to answer that I can't, that it doesn't suit me. I'd watch my older brothers join Dad on his work; see him smile while he tapped their shoulders. I wanted to be like him. No.

I wanted to be him.

He always go home with delicious food. He'd kiss my mother on her forehead and lips. They'd hug each other and would watch as their children share the dinner. When I grow up, I'd have a beautiful wife and a loving child. We'd continue life joyfully as a family, tied with a strong bond of love and kindness.

I'd notice myself smiling, a sign of hope in the middle of my daydreams.

As I grew up, people started to notice me not because of what I did but because of what I was. I wanted to show them that they were wrong about me, that they couldn't change me. Mom would always say that it wasn't as bad as it looked, I just needed to respect others, but don't let them ruin my dignity.

"You can't be strong."
"What you're saying is impossible."
"You are not handsome. And will never be."
"No girl will fall in love with a person like you"

All my life I endured those words, I shielded myself but I was never able to avoid them. I thought of giving up but I needed to take risks, life moved so fast. Time came when I wanted to change but I couldn't. Even if I try.

I tried.

I felt hopeless, until one day, I met someone who's ready to accept me. She's the person that I hoped to love, that I wished to be with. It was when a guy pushed me and I fell on the ground. I was picking my things when someone helped me. We both reached for the second book, but accidentally touched each other's hand. It was soft; it was like I touched the clouds. Her long dark hair fell on her shoulders and I remembered the scent.

They say we should follow our dreams and she's mine. It took so long before I knew who she was, before she knew who I am. We met almost every day, we laughed, we cried, we fought, we said sorry, we loved; even though people disagreed. I hadn't seen what's wrong with our love but we both knew why.

I thought that our love was so strong, that no one could ever break it. Yes.

It was true.

But not until she changed her mind. I felt her cold heart that was supposed to be warm. It supposed to feel different but it's not. Why? She said she loved me. But I didn't think that's what she really meant. Maybe they were true - no one will love me. Ever.

I was broken.

The biggest way to happiness was to be selfless. Care about people, forget selfishness. I knew that's what I did; I knew. If being selfish was thinking only of oneself, then I was not. For as long as our love was concerned, I believe it was only you. It was only you I always think about.

But what could I do? The person that I thought of being different turned out to be the same. She's like them; she judged; she broke; though she promised. You were weak; fragile. In that way, I could compare myself to you. But like a tree, I remembered to grow again after collapsing from a storm; like a sun that shone after the cold, dark night; A ball who always bounces up after falling.

I was similarly different.

Soon, all my problems would end. Life would throw some reasons to me, to remind that I deserved to be happy. It was meant to be, that someone would lock you in a cage, but would leave the key. They'd make you hungry, but someone would give you food, not money. But then again, I didn't consider them as problems. I called them challenges. They never get tired of coming, but I never get tired of learning;

... of being strong.

"I told you to stop. It was wrong."
"I'm sorry. But your father is right."

They only thoght what's best for me. But they never cared how I feel. I needed to choose from an option. I needed to conclude. I cut my hair shorter - sort of a rebel but not intentional. I tried to examine myself, my reflection, to discover how people recognize me. This was the end.

I made a decision.

I would stay.

But;

I accepted.

I was she;

Not he.

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