I just want everyone to know before they read this that I am not depress and these are not my real feelings towards life. Also, I want everyone to know that if this fic seems a little confusing или it jumps around a lot, it's because I wrote the last line first and then built the enire fic around it. I'm going to say that this takes place somewhere between Wilson's сердце and Lucky Thirteen because that's where it seems like her feelings are the closest to these. I feel that this is one of my darker fics. Be forewarned.
Through the Wind and the Rain
I have always been strong, but we live in a world harsher than most people know, and I hide my pain so they won’t have to.
Everyday for as long as I can remember I have gotten up everyday, no matter how I felt. I have dealt with problems by myself and on my own time. I have dealt with problems without letting anyone else know that I even had them. But if Ты took away the dam, I would burst from the pressure. I hide my problems by doing exceptionally well at everything I try, because if Ты have a straight A student and a straight F student, which one are Ты еще likely to send to the guidance counselor? Because even though I use the same strategy over and over again, no one ever figures it out.
Over the years I have met any people who could have helped me just by getting to know me if they had been willing to try. The only problem is that people never look hard enough to tell that I am wearing a mask and that I am not really what I seem. It’s just that I have carried burdens since I was old enough to talk that most people will not carry in a lifetime, and those people can not possibly understand what it’s like for a five год old to live with the weight of the world on her shoulders. What I want, what I wish for, doesn’t matter because no one will ever know.
I have broken, but I have been careful. I have done it when no one is watching, when no one is listening, though it really wouldn’t have mattered if they had been, because no one ever pays attention. I suppose someone has to keep the еще terrible things in the world to themselves so that others don’t have to know. It just really sucks that I’m the one that has to do it. By time anyone else finds out what I am living with it will be to late for me to be washed of the feeling, maybe it already is. So there is really no point in dragging anyone else down with me, in making someone else feel even a fraction, even for a minute, what I have felt in full force everyday for as long as I can remember.
I have always felt еще или less invisible, and even if I were to leave a legacy I am certain it would be over shadowed by an even greater one. Even at my funeral I am sure no one will really see my face the way that only I see it. I am sure that no one will call me by the name I prefer to be called. They will call me by what they knew me as, and that will work for them. That will keep them from worrying over the fact that they never knew my really name, even the ones who thought they did. I have never had a teacher who remembered me after I left her classroom, and I can not help but wonder, will it be the same when I leave this world.
I am strong, but we live in a cruel world, and just because I hide my bruises doesn’t mean I don’t have them.
Through the Wind and the Rain
I have always been strong, but we live in a world harsher than most people know, and I hide my pain so they won’t have to.
Everyday for as long as I can remember I have gotten up everyday, no matter how I felt. I have dealt with problems by myself and on my own time. I have dealt with problems without letting anyone else know that I even had them. But if Ты took away the dam, I would burst from the pressure. I hide my problems by doing exceptionally well at everything I try, because if Ты have a straight A student and a straight F student, which one are Ты еще likely to send to the guidance counselor? Because even though I use the same strategy over and over again, no one ever figures it out.
Over the years I have met any people who could have helped me just by getting to know me if they had been willing to try. The only problem is that people never look hard enough to tell that I am wearing a mask and that I am not really what I seem. It’s just that I have carried burdens since I was old enough to talk that most people will not carry in a lifetime, and those people can not possibly understand what it’s like for a five год old to live with the weight of the world on her shoulders. What I want, what I wish for, doesn’t matter because no one will ever know.
I have broken, but I have been careful. I have done it when no one is watching, when no one is listening, though it really wouldn’t have mattered if they had been, because no one ever pays attention. I suppose someone has to keep the еще terrible things in the world to themselves so that others don’t have to know. It just really sucks that I’m the one that has to do it. By time anyone else finds out what I am living with it will be to late for me to be washed of the feeling, maybe it already is. So there is really no point in dragging anyone else down with me, in making someone else feel even a fraction, even for a minute, what I have felt in full force everyday for as long as I can remember.
I have always felt еще или less invisible, and even if I were to leave a legacy I am certain it would be over shadowed by an even greater one. Even at my funeral I am sure no one will really see my face the way that only I see it. I am sure that no one will call me by the name I prefer to be called. They will call me by what they knew me as, and that will work for them. That will keep them from worrying over the fact that they never knew my really name, even the ones who thought they did. I have never had a teacher who remembered me after I left her classroom, and I can not help but wonder, will it be the same when I leave this world.
I am strong, but we live in a cruel world, and just because I hide my bruises doesn’t mean I don’t have them.