Everyone talks around me.
Categorized under the "Shy, Quiet" One.
Always there to listen to their stories.
No ones there to listen to mine.
Whenever I do try to talk,
there's always that one person that always cuts me off.
I feel like I'm not important.
Maybe I'm not.

One day, he comes up to me.
"So tell me about you."
He says.
I don't know what to say because I've been longing for those words.
He sits there and listens to me,
only interrupting for a question,
or for laughing.

I tip my head back, high, and laugh along,
even though I've heard this story in my head a million times.
So this is what it's like to be heard.