Introvert

5

'I don't see why she

Talks to me, can't she see I'm

A complete loser?' ~ Haiku #12, Ryan Havers

||Niall||

We all settle down in the living room the second we get there, the chill between Harry and Louis warmed up with a few comforting words and a few hugs, and they're as close as ever. It's ridiculous to think that they aren't together, but I refuse to get into another fight about it. Besides, Harry isn't gay, or he's stated he's not. Whether that's true or not, I'm not sure. But the point applies, and frankly we could rather be watching movies than arguing. 

"What are we gonna watch, then?" Lou asks, from next to Harry, bodily curled up next to him. it can't be comfortable.

"I don't know, but I am not watching Avengers again," I say, ducking to check my large stack of CDs with hands pressed against the carpet. I have a mix of dumb romantic movies Harry has left over here multiple times, a few good horror movies (I hate the badly put together ones with bad plot... there is literally no point in them). Then there are the comedies, which take up a good amount of space, to be honest. But I've watched them too many times, and so have the lads.

And that's how Louis convinces us to watch Frozen.

I hate him, honest to God. I don't even know why I have Frozen, for Christ's sake. Probably Harry brought it over illegally, but the movie's actually not that bad. 

Forty or so minutes in, and Louis and Harry are both shaking with sobs, and Liam, Zayn and I are ignoring them as much as we can. They're such a married couple, it's repulsive.

"B-but she cares so much! She just wants to help Else, I'm going to die with this!" Louis exclaims, shaking as Anna exits into the snow with Kristoff, wolves on their tail. 

The fact that such a childlike movie can have so many adult themes; sexism, feminism, segregation of the types of person, is kind of inspiring. I can't help but think it's a good thing Louis has sisters, because if he didn't there'd be a large chance of him being a bit more of a dick than he is. It's nice that the lads and I can watch the movie without feeling stupid, but I can't help but think what Shyanna's stance on it would be. Would she enjoy it, or find it self-indulgent? I sort of hope that she'd enjoy it, so I could be myself the way I want her to always be. I'm hopelessly infatuated her, I hate myself.

Shyanna Rockley and her fucking beautiful soul can screw everything. I hate it.

||Shyanna||

 "So how was your day at school?" Mum asks as I rapidly spoon pasty into my mouth. It's the perfect type of softness, and I almost moan. Except I don't, because I'm not an animal. Don't judge me and my slutty food ways, I can retort with a philosophical quote faster than you can breathe.

"Um, good, I guess. I got to write a few haikus." I say, missing out the part of my day where I talked to two guys without having a panic attack.

"Oh, great. What were they about?" Her eyes meet mine cheerfully, grinning widely with a spoon raised to her mouth, forgotten.

"Darkness consuming everything we are, love and one about ice cream." I say, and there's a moment when my mother is silent. Silence is something most people are when around me. It's a nice change from being silent myself.

"Jesus Christ, you're going to get people scared again." She says finally, eating faster than ever before. I tend to set people on edge with my foot in mouth thing, which isn't purposeful, but if it works, it works.

We stay silent after that.

***

It's odd how much life can change in a day, how much your thoughts can change from 'I want to be alone forever' to 'I want to know why Niall Horan talked to me and also why he blushed'. I want to know the depths of human complexity, but I also want to know why I want that. Why am I so ready to discover about other people when my own depths have not been explored? Why are my thoughts governed by what everyone else says or does, when it is my own mind?

This is the fault of our existence, the fact I can ask these questions yet gain no answers. I can sound intelligent when asking, but mad when attempting to answer. If there is anything I wish to change more than that, it is my want to change the fact that love is still restricted by people who have never felt true compassion. The whole gay marriage thing has always shocked me slightly, mostly in that it is not a right they have gained but also in that it implies of someone is bisexual, or pansexual, or heteroflexible, even, cannot get married to the opposite gender. It implies that bisexual people, say, cannot marry, because at some point in their lives they may have had some sort of interaction with their sex. 

Is this not representative of how odd we are? We decline the ability to love and yet many claim it is in the face of their love for their God, or gods. Perhaps this is why we cannot answer questions about life. We spend too much time arguing about things that exist than concentrating on discovering things we believe do not.

If we could look harder, think more, we could find the cure to cancer. It is human unkindness and cruelty that limits this so harshly, and it is this that stops me from understanding people for who they truly are.

You can make a wonderful person in your head, make them the person of your dreams, with a nice body and personality, but you cannot understand them, because you are too focused on their bodily perfection to give a damn. So this is the reason I cannot understand Niall; the blush he has when he looks at me consumes all I am, much like the darkness that will eventually come, and I refuse to listen to the boy behind the blush. I am not superficial, but I know beauty when I see it, and Niall is beautiful. Everyone is, indeed, but Niall has more expressive eyes than any words he could say. He has a small chin dimple that everyone wishes, deep down, to poke, and frankly, he's sort of hot.

If only I could find a way to talk to him without embarrassing myself, and embarrassing him, I might just find a way to understand him.

I doubt it, but understanding a beautiful boy is worth the repercussions I may earn.

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