heart eyes

quiet people

I feel horrible for quiet people. They clearly have it the hardest.

Quiet people have the toughest lives, I think. I don't say this because they might not speak up for themselves, or correct someone pronouncing their name wrong, or ask for an extra fork because they dropped the other one, but because their minds must be terribly loud. I think of one person in particular when you ask me to think of someone quiet. I think of her anyway, but that's beside the point. My point is that although she is quiet, her mind is raging.

I know this because she won't talk to my to my face, but I know everything about her and more. I think it must be hard to have told someone everything but to only be able to talk about it through text. We talk every night. I stay up late for her. I miss sleep. I turn on my ringer extra loud in case she texts me and it's late.

If her mind wasn't so loud I wouldn't bother, but that's not the case.

She talks to me with such heavy thoughts, asking about things that never even occurred to me, such as does everyone see different colors, or is it possible for everyone to findlove, and why does my dad insist that mayonnaise is the universal condiment?

I can only answer that I personally thought it was ketchup.

She asks floods of questions, some that I can't answer, and others that I try my best to. She tells me things about herself that I never would have guessed from looking at her, dark-haired, short, and quiet. She tells me that when she was little, she had a babysitter who would doodle a tiny elephant when she was bored, and she caught onto the habit herself. She tells me that she doesn't believe in God because why would he create other things for people to worship, like dogs? She tells me that she can only reread the last chapters of books because she already knows that everything is fine in the end, so why would she reread the parts that aren't?

She tells me her worries, her thoughts, her questions, anything that her deafeningly loud mind can spew out.

I ask her why she's so quiet when she clearly has so much to say.

And she just responds, "I'm not quiet, I talk to you."

And I reply, "But not in person."

And she answers jokingly, "But why should we talk in person when God created iMessage?"

I stop asking why she's quiet. She won't tell me, I know. But I can't help but feel that it's because no one listened to her before I did.