Anywhere I go, it's always the same. Someone will approach me, asking me a question, commenting on something. Staring at me, gawking really. It's not because I have exceptional beauty, because I do not.it's also not my super tall, lanky figure either. My friend Alexa says its the way I carry myself. "Confident," she would tell me. "You always look like you know what you're doing, and people want to be around that." Funny. Cause in reality, I don't.Everybody thinks I'm a strong, poised girl with armor around her heart and barbed wire inside her head, keeping bad thoughts away and the seldom few that come in bleeding and punctured. When in reality, someone can comment on the size of my nose or the length of my chest and it bugs me for days. Soft. Too approachable.Tender. Aching. Needing a friend.That's the real me. Why did these people see that girl? Because I mastered it. I mastered the role of the entertainer. The one who people came to when they were bored, or sad, or angry. I like to think I developed this trait of being the Entertainer myself. I'm great at it. I've been doing it for as long as I can remember. Saying something to make someone happy. Being there when they were sad. Being their only rock in the stormy sea. Well, what happens when the only rock you have is gone, or breaking? What are you to do when your lost? So us, The Entertainers, have to be there. We have to always have our phones on, waiting for the SOS call. We always have to have on shoulders open, and we always have to keep a smile on our face. I've came to ask myself many times why? Why do I do this? I act strong, so strong. When in reality, I'm breaking. Breaking into millions of pieces, but no one around me can even sense it. They're to enveloped into their own problems to worry about mine. All I ask, is what will happen when the Entertainer is gone? Dealing with their own problems, instead of always being there for the others? Since when is my life all about others, and not me?
December 21, 2011