Lonely Kid
The older I get, the easier it is for me to see what a strange child I was. There are two things that stand out to me: I never became upset over physical pain and I was always alone—usually not by choice. Back in Kindergarten, I was stung by a bee, sitting in a playhouse by myself. All the other children were off laughing and playing schoolyard games. I remember holding my knees to my chest, as I rest my head against the plastic wall, and hearing the bee, then seeing it, but not trying to get out of its way; when I felt its sting puncture my skin, I wasn’t surprised. I waited a while before telling the teacher and examined my wound in nonchalant, passive wonder. If I remember correctly, my thought was, “Oh, a bee stung me.” It was not that I couldn’t feel physical pain. I think I was just afraid of letting it show. When I finally made my way to the teacher, she tended to me and asked why I was alone. I shrugged and darted my eyes from her gaze. I, too, was curious for an answer to her question.
On a separate occasion in the same playhouse, I sat alone pensively as I observed the other kids play from afar. Eventually, …show more content…
I rather wish I did not desire to be alone all the time. As for now, nothing seems to have changed. That strange child has manifested into an awkward adult. Physical pain doesn’t bother me much, and I’m still a loner. But, one thing has changed: I don’t want to be alone so much anymore. Granted, I am an introvert, but I would enjoy being more social. I should be used to it now. I always just had a few close friends. Boys would get sick of me after a short period of time. My parents both worked all the time and were too busy to hang around me. Though I’ve been alone for the majority of my life, I don’t think I’ve ever been completely comfortable with it. I don’t like to share myself with others because it makes me feel weird, but not being close to other
The older I get, the easier it is for me to see what a strange child I was. There are two things that stand out to me: I never became upset over physical pain and I was always alone—usually not by choice. Back in Kindergarten, I was stung by a bee, sitting in a playhouse by myself. All the other children were off laughing and playing schoolyard games. I remember holding my knees to my chest, as I rest my head against the plastic wall, and hearing the bee, then seeing it, but not trying to get out of its way; when I felt its sting puncture my skin, I wasn’t surprised. I waited a while before telling the teacher and examined my wound in nonchalant, passive wonder. If I remember correctly, my thought was, “Oh, a bee stung me.” It was not that I couldn’t feel physical pain. I think I was just afraid of letting it show. When I finally made my way to the teacher, she tended to me and asked why I was alone. I shrugged and darted my eyes from her gaze. I, too, was curious for an answer to her question.
On a separate occasion in the same playhouse, I sat alone pensively as I observed the other kids play from afar. Eventually, …show more content…
I rather wish I did not desire to be alone all the time. As for now, nothing seems to have changed. That strange child has manifested into an awkward adult. Physical pain doesn’t bother me much, and I’m still a loner. But, one thing has changed: I don’t want to be alone so much anymore. Granted, I am an introvert, but I would enjoy being more social. I should be used to it now. I always just had a few close friends. Boys would get sick of me after a short period of time. My parents both worked all the time and were too busy to hang around me. Though I’ve been alone for the majority of my life, I don’t think I’ve ever been completely comfortable with it. I don’t like to share myself with others because it makes me feel weird, but not being close to other