In the wake of your absence, I’ll at first balk at the world.
I’ve noticed that what we regard as our biggest issue in life is often seen to be a complete non-issue by others looking in.
Time waits for no man, but when you are nineteen, perhaps it pauses for just a second.
The voices stack up, coming as they do from myriad directions, and begin to swirl together until they are oppressive. They amass into one judgmental standard that always seems above you. And you feel small.
It seems that if people see you as the shy, quiet person who never really says anything interesting, any comment that you do make in jest is greeted with disproportionate appreciation. I cottoned on. The one-liner became my tool.