That Girl.

I’m different.

I know, we all say we are different… and we all mean it, because we are all different. Different hair, shoes, eyes, different opinions, different taste in music, we all have our own little intricacies that set us apart from everyone else. And in this quality, I suppose we are all the same.

But me, I’m just a bit… different.

You tend to get that line thrown at you by someone who wants to be with you.

“I’m not like all the other girls…”

“You’ll never find someone else like me…”

But that is not my aim here. i am not trying to attract anyone with my statement. Not attempting to lure you in with promises of how much better I could treat you, or how my qualities outdistance hers.

See, I am not saying that I am “good” different. I’m not saying that it is bad either. Simply… other.

I’m that girl who sat on the swing every day of sixth grade at recess trying to recite “The Raven” from memory.

I’m that girl who ate pizza and salad every day of sixth grade simply because she could.

I’m that girl who got called “soupy salad girl” that year because I covered it in ranch, French AND Catalina dressings.

I’m that girl who will eat Ranch on almost anything.

I’m that girl who would rather be sitting by a bonfire with friends, telling inappropriate stories and jokes than sitting in a bar.

I’m that girl who has never smoked anything and hasn’t had alcohol in over four years simply because she doesn’t like the taste.

I’m that girl who likes video games and has a 1985 NES.

I’m that girl who sucks so bad at math that she had to take six math classes in high school even when she only had to pass two.

I’m that girl who slept through English class and got an A.

I’m that girl who has a million trivia facts (mostly about animals) stored away in her brain that she probably will never use.

I’m that girl who prefers books, real, paper books over movies. Any day.

I’m that girl who put on a bright blue cosplay wig, combat style boots, and a black and red Halloween tutu, and took her girls to the park.

I’m that girl who used to drive her friends to the bar, and sit alone in the corner, with her mp3 player because the club music sucked, and people watched, because she knew her friend would drive herself home drunk otherwise.

I’m that girl who has lent out so much money that if she were to get it all back, multiple people would be giving her more than $200.

I’m that girl who still has stuffed animals. (Mostly frogs)

I’m that girl with a box full of board and card games.

I’m that girl who goes crazy for Halloween and St Patrick’s Day.

I’m that girl who has never had a Valentine. Or a date.

I’m that girl who gets excited over stupid, random things.

I’m that girl who will cry over stupid, random things.

I’m that girl who collects pens and has a favorite kind.

I’m that girl who holds onto memories, and pulls them up occasionally, because she doesn’t want to let them go.

When I say I am different, I am not saying it to entice anyone. I am saying it as a warning. A warning that, if you can’t love me… all of me… all of my different, then you really shouldn’t bother trying to get with me.

Me, I’m different.
In all the best ways.


One thought on “That Girl.

  1. Pingback: Index of Posts. | Inside the Mind of a Dramatic Mother

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