My Life: A Dramatic Narrative

An Old Soul

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When people always talk to me, a lot of times I get this stare. This weird stare.

At first I thought everyone was judging me. Thinking how odd and awkward I was.

That was until I confronted someone about this stare.

"I'm not judging you, Tayler, I just don't relate to anything you say."

What?

You don't...relate?

I'm just a normal, 46 chromosomed homo sapien trying to talk and you don't relate?

Does anyone relate?

Am I speaking to dead eyes everytime I open my mouth? Is that the stare everyone is always giving me, shrinking me down to the size of an ant, burning me with the glaze of their magnifying glass eyes?

That is why I obsess over certain people. The people who get my jokes, who care about successes and failures, who are nice to me and talk to me face to face, not through glass.

I'm sorry I'm different.

I'm sorry I'm an old soul.