There are still things I like

Everyone better believe it. It's true, when I'm being asked what makes me happy, I have to think about it for a way too long time. It's not like I'm walking around completely depressed all day, absolutely not, but I'm feeling pretty average these days. I guess it's some kind of teenage personality crisis. I don't know who I am anymore, or who I want to be. I don't even want to think of the person I will be 10 years from now. That often scares me. When I try to psychoanalyze myself, I can only come to the conclusion that it is the way it is because I'm turning 16 in December, and even when I was still a little kid, I imagined myself being a completely different, more enjoyable person at 16. But now that I feel that age coming, I feel as if I've failed. I feel like I've let the 8-year old me down. And that led to this, what are we going to call it,  mild personality crisis. Which makes me very uncertain about what I still like and what truly makes me happy. Not too long ago, this would have been easy to answer, but everything's kind of blurry these days.

But yesterday, we had the annual 'picnic in the park' day at my school, when we get to wear normal clothes (instead of our dull brown uniforms) and we all eat sandwiches in our park. There's usually a really good atmosphere on that particular day. Everyone seems happier,friendlier. People were playing games, enjoying the weather, and listening to the school band playing a song. Traditionally, everyone sits on the meadow in their own little and bigger groups of friends. But the little boy, the gifted one who’s always meditating on the bridge, was sitting all alone, quietly eating his sandwich. Having forgot to put on normal clothes, this added up to the whole feeling of loneliness that his figure expressed. The grassfield seemed huge compared to him, while he seemed so tiny. Some kind of instinct (Hell, do I know where I got it) gave me the feeling that I had to protect the boy, I HAD to. I felt as if I had to protect him like he’s my own son. So I discussed it with my friends, and though most of them were against it, two others agreed on inviting the boy to our group. We knew he wouldn’t take offense, because in an earlier experience, we were sitting on the bridge in the park, quite close to him, but not talking to him, and this guy Wolf (Not a nickname, that’s the guy’s actual name) suddenly sat next to him, coming completely out of nowhere. The little boy moaned and crept closer to his friend, who was with him, and muttered something about ‘negative energy’. He stood up and went away. The Wolf-guy didn’t know what just had happened “Did I just do that?” We always thought the boy didn’t like us sitting close to him, but that he just didn’t dare to tell us, but from that experience, we learned that we didn’t bother him, if we did, he would just have gotten up and gone away, like he did with Wolf.

So we offered him to join us, and he was like “Well, okay, I don’t mind”. So we brought him with us and introduced him to the group, after which we just talked to our friends. The boy never interrupted us, but every once in a while a high, cute giggle reminded us he was still there. Slowly, the ice kind of broke for the boy, and he started to join our conversations, telling stories and making us laugh. He looked as if he had a good time, and I felt happy because we’d taken him out of his loneliness. We stood up for the guy, and showed his classmates (he’s in 7^th grade) that even if they think he’s a freak, 10^th graders like him, which is something I know some of his classmates envy.

After a while, it was just me talking to him, telling him stories, listening to his. I got a great feeling out of this, a feeling that felt like I hadn’t experienced it in a while. It felt just so right. He turned out to be extremely funny, and not at all ‘socially handicapped’ as some people describe him. I think he just hasn’t got the chance to prove himself yet, to show that he’s fun to hang out with, because they have all these weird thoughts about him. Everyone gives up on him before they get to know him, because he’s kind of a loner, the vegetarian kid who sits alone and meditates. He’s just a misunderstood young boy, really. I recognized a lot of myself in him, because when I was in primary school, I was a lot like that myself. People avoided me because I was ‘the weird one’, never understanding me. In the end it turned out they didn’t understand me because I was’ intellectually at a higher level’ than they were, which caused them not understanding me and my interests and thoughts and stuff. This seems strange to say, but it’s just  like that. They couldn’t understand me and my weird thoughts. I guess that’s exactly what happened to the little boy, considering his IQ of 150. When we were talking, I recognized so much of my primary-school-self in him, I randomly told the boy loads and loads of stories and stupid facts about myself, and so did he.

Afterwards, I felt very surprised by my actions. You see, usually, when I meet someone new, I’m very shy and quiet, and there’s no way I would ever be the first one to start talking. But my little chatter with the boy suddenly remembered me of another character treat of mine, one that I had almost begun to forget. I have always been shy and clumsy when I meet someone new, but in the past, once the ice was broken, once I felt some sort of connection with the other person, I started talking. And talking. There was no end to it. It’s been such a long time since I’ve had that kind of immediate trust in someone and I start telling stories to that strangers that I almost forgot I could do that. I think the last time it happened was 2 years ago in the summer. Most of the time I’m just quiet and people think I’m weird or that I don’t like them because I don’t speak, but really, I’m just too scared, because there isn’t a connection and the ice is still deeply frozen. The boy brought this piece of me up again, which I’m very grateful for. He remembered me of how innocent I was in the past, and how, despite my shyness, I could still make friends through my excessive talking when they were, somehow, able to break through my wall of shyness. Nowadays I strengthened the wall, so it’s almost impossible to just break through it without trying (and no one finds me interesting enough to try), and I hardly make any new friends. The boy was, unconsciously, able to reach me, which I think is amazing. It felt so good, so right. Seeing the boy, who’s usually so lonely and not exactly cheerful, having fun, and having fun myself, that’s what makes me happy.