September 17, 2011

• Waiting

   

  This is a story.

  About a guy.

  He was a good guy.

  Fun to be around.

  And really funny.

  Everyone thought he was hilarious.

  But that was actually a problem.

  You see, since he was funny, people liked him. They wanted to be around him when they were sad. But they kind of took him for granted. They kinda used him. They only cared about what he had to say if it was funny. They didn’t care to hear his thoughts or opinions; didn’t bother to dig deeper; get to know him better. 

  But he was used to it

  He understood. They didn’t do it on purpose. They just didn’t think about it.

  And so he made them laugh. He let them sit by him when they needed to be cheered up. He watched as they turned to each other for help, for comfort, for an actual relationship; brushing him off as the funny guy. He experienced pain, but only every now and then, when a wave of loneliness would wash over him.

  But most of all, he waited.

  Waited for someone to come along that cared enough to dig deeper. To learn about the man beneath the jester’s costume. To be the one he could confide in; share thoughts with; to show the rest of him to.

  To care. To be a friend.

  But he waited.

  This is a story. 

  About a guy.

  Who is still waiting.

  But for now, he’ll be content with Xanga. 

   

  • 6:55 pm
  • 9 Comments