Ever since I was a little girl, I have wanted to be a writer. I have always loved the idea of writing all my secrets where nobody would ever hear them; the idea of writing what I could never say out loud. Hearts can leak but books can never be broken. Hearts can be robbed, but books keep fighting and fighting until there is nothing left to steal. I developed a sense of “trust” in my notebooks. I loved thought that my words mattered to them.
It’s this constant battle you see, one that often throws me amidst the knights and the warlords, and their bloody misunderstandings. That’s all that war is really: just a bunch of people misunderstanding each other. There is a rare case or two of people fighting just to kill time, but for all of the other times, there is always a reason. My reason just happens to define me an introvert.
I hated my definition.
I was shy, I was sad, and worst of all: I knew it. My notebooks were my prized possession. Each one had its own personality and when I needed a friend, I knew that I would always have one. I have not always been the most well liked at school and at there was a time when I had absolutely no friends and nobody to turn to other than my notebooks, and my mom.
I eventually did make some friends but I’ve always had this strange feeling that I’m just a little bit different then everyone else. I know that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never quite fit in perfectly but I’m probably the closest puzzle piece to the one needed to fill the very oddly shaped hole in their hearts.
Sometimes, writing is the only way to get something that you want, but know you can never have. It’s easier to stay ignorant than risk everything to go after something that is so far out of reach. Even in daydreams though, it is impossible to ever achieve any sort of satisfaction with your accomplishments because they aren’t real.
Over time, and as technology evolved, those notebooks turned into files and those files turned into folders and then I realized that the internet existed. I could not only write whatever I wanted, but I could share it with the world. I could do anything; I could be anyone. And that’s how I changed my definition. I still had my notebooks but I had changed. I no longer wanted to forever keep to myself, but I wanted to share the world that I had created. I wanted to give others some of the joy that I’ve found while writing. I went from this pathetic, introverted girl sitting in the corner, to a confident well-spoken individual with her own strong opinions. And that's how you guys came along.
My readers give me the strength to keep doing what I'm doing. They give me the courage to fight back against all of the mean rotten things that the world throws my way. And for that, I thank you. :)
Thanks for helping me hit the 9,000 pageview mark. It really means a lot to me. :)