UNTITLED

She’s a girl who lives in innate misery. Her eyes are large and naïve like those of a child, but past the appearance of innocence lies a great sadness. Sometimes she wonders if her irises are so blue from all of the tears held inside. She has compulsive tendencies to bite her nails and scratch her head for a lack of certainty about where to place her hands. And she thinks that she can hide such things if only she never looks anyone in the eye–for her eyes are where her soul lies–but it only becomes more clear.

Her tiny fabricated smiles indicate a deeper loneliness–she’s always the girl you see sitting by herself. Maybe she doesn’t mind, you think, maybe she wants to be that way. And maybe you’re right. So much time has been passed sitting cross-legged {alone} that she does not quite know anymore either. But even when you don’t realize it, she’s watching you. She is jealous of your happiness, your friends, your ability to adapt and act better than she can. She’s a girl who has always been trapped in between doing nothing and everything to conform. Organizations and cliques make her ill. And at the same time there is an aching and longing inside of her to fit somewhere. She has been jaded enough to no longer be certain of that place’s existence. So she stares at the beautiful people and dreams of belonging. Sometimes you’ll notice her out of the corner of your eye and recognize that her gaze is directed at your group. But she’ll always pretend as though you were mistaken. You might have been, in fact–she could have not actually been looking at you at all, but instead staring at your figure until it becomes a giant blur against the rest of her faded world.

And when everything is so washed out and dead that she is tumbling beyond control, she has to dress it up with a bit of color. That’s the reason for her loud jewelry and clothing and the random song lyrics covering Everything. Because every now and then she needs to remind herself that she is alive. She knows that somewhere the vibrance has to match her soul. If only she could let that show, it would mean the world and fix it all.

And that’s why when you do hear her laugh, she’s always the loudest. She’s always the last one to stop because she doesn’t want the joy to end. There’s nothing she loves more than an inside joke–a sense of belonging, a reason to smile and look another in the eye–and have it be almost everything she needs. Because it really is all in her eyes–and just every once in a while they decide to sparkle. That’s when something much deeper is reflected. It’s not when she cries or bleeds or fades away behind you. It’s when she’s reminded that her heart still pounds and her lungs still breath and she can take one more step. Her deepest layer of all is revealed then. Behind all of the concealer and color and blank expressions lie hope. Hope that she’ll find a confidant. A companion. A friend and a REASON. Something better than today.

- Cara Kulwicki