“She and Effie were already putting on their turtle-and-hare show. Everyone paid lots of attention to Lena at first, because she was striking to look at, but within a few hours or days, they always fully committed their attentions to exuberant, affectionate Effie. Lena felt Effie deserved it. Lena was an introvert. She knew she had trouble connecting with people. She always felt like her looks were fake bait, seeming to offer a bridge to people, which she couldn’t easily cross.”
― Ann Brashares, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
Not what I regularly post but I loved this quote so much I decided to share it with you.
This is a revision of a prose piece I did a few months ago.
Frustration is something she often articulates—not with words but her eyes and the frown she bears before pulling her pursed lips back into a smile and saying, “I understand.” Her brilliant mind is loud with screams. The invitations to her party got lost in the mail. Her voice—a lovely perfume—and yet, still no answer. Damn these subsequent silences. Hardships are thrown as we fail to understand—fail to care. Our lives are cursed and we fail to understand why.
This is not a break. This is death—at least that’s what it feels like. Distractions occupy my nights—well, you wouldn’t really call “sleep” a distraction. In my days, I am used to you. My elbow in your face when you wake. Egg-fried rice for breakfast. Random dancing. Joking at my expense and high-fiving yourself. Working side by side. Friends marathons. Tender forehead kisses. Hearts shooting out like we’re in some cartoon. Then again, maybe this is not death. Maybe we’re just in a coma.