64 in ’12: A Kiss in the Rain

It was this line that first caught my attention.

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”
– Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I recently finished the book and found myself profoundly moved as I read the last sentence. As I’ve told several friends, it was a book that had such an old voice being spoken by someone so young. It was almost too easy to forget that Charlie was only fifteen.

A friend of mine asked who I was among the characters in the book. Without a moment’s hesitation I immediately answered, “Charlie”. She laughed (as much as one could laugh over chat) and said, “You are so NOT a wallflower.”

Truth be told, she was right. I wasn’t the kind of wallflower Charlie was – the one who never got noticed. But so much of what he wrote resonated with how I felt (then, now, and probably always). I am a wallflower in the sense that I listen more than I talk. It’s been a running joke between me and some friends that my talent was to get people to spill their guts. It’s not such an extraordinary thing, really. It’s just that when I talk to people, when I ask them questions, the conversation stops being about me and starts being about them.

At the end of the day, I think we all want the same thing: to be heard.

It doesn’t matter if we tell our stories through poetry or prose, through colored canvasses or photographs, through melodies or movement. We are all story-weavers. And there is nothing we want more than others’ eyes to see us, ears to hears us, and hearts to understand us.

And yet I have learned is that those are the hardest things to find. Not all eyes are attuned to see what I see. Not all ears are ready to hear what I say. Not all hearts are open to understand how inexplicably different I am. Sometimes, it is a very, very lonely life.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.”
– Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

In the midst of loneliness, however, I think I will always need to hold on to the belief that there is something better out there. That, in some far off place, there is another who holds on to that belief as hard as I do. I will always need to believe that one day, even to just one person, I will be enough. I also believe that one day, there will be that one person who will be enough for me.

“If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don’t want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it, too.”
– Sam, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Promise

I’m worth it too, you know.

 

 

Ciao Bella!

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4 Comments

Filed under iRead, Secret Life of Bees, This So-Called Life

4 responses to “64 in ’12: A Kiss in the Rain

  1. Pingback: Being a wallflower « Portia Placino

  2. Pingback: 65 in ’12: Would It Be My Fault If I Could Turn You On? | Amor Vincit Omnia

  3. Pingback: 66 in ’12: Tonight, We Were Invincible | Amor Vincit Omnia

  4. Pingback: 02.13: 2012 in Written Word | Amor Vincit Omnia

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