As I walked at the park on my 23rd,
All I see were lovers. couples. or whatever you call them.
My nerves pulsed, bitterly to the core.
I never felt so . . . Alone.
What's wrong with me ?
(I said to myself.)
No one has been interested to know me.
No one has ever tried to get my number.
No one has ever tried to court me.
No one has ever tried to date me.
What's wrong with me?
Then I looked at the girls with their lovers.
I am not like them.
(I said to myself.)
I surely felt invisible at that time.
Oh, I forgot, I always felt invisible.
Do I have to change the color of my hair to make me look cool?
Do I have to put colors on my face to cover up tons of pimples?
Do I have to wear very short shorts and mountain-peeking blouses to attract guys?
(Because these t-shirt and jeans don't work.)
Do I have to wear high heels to make me look edgy and sexy?
(Because a pair of sneakers doesn't work.)
Do I have to drink and party all night to meet guys?
Do I have to?
No.
I am not used to it.
I don't want to.
I don't want to change.
I don't want to change myself.
(I said to myself.)
Even though I've always felt invisible to the eyes of Adams,
Even though I am repelling all the gravitational forces of guys around me,
Even though time speeds up very fast,
Even though I am afraid of being alone,
of getting old alone,
I am me.
I am the way I am.
I am not changing.
(I said to myself.)
