Panther – Sophomore
Wounds aren’t always what you can see. Wounds can be in your body, mind, and most importantly your soul. Some people just don’t get it when I say “I’m hurting” because I don’t mean I have a bruise on my arm, I don’t mean that my stomach hurts, and I don’t mean what I am thinking just starting hurting my brain. I am hurt in my soul.
Think of a glass, okay? Now think of that glass getting pushed on the ground, and left there for someone else to pick up. But the thing is, nobody wants to clean up a mess that big; No one, and why would they want to? I sure as hell don’t want to and I am the mess.
That’s how it feels every day for me to sit in a class with so much time to just think. Think of the sound of the glass shatter. That sound doesn’t go away for a very long time until you get something else stuck in your head, something possibly worse. That’s what it’s like to have a thought for me. It’s never ending, and trust me I try.
I can try every day to stare at the white board with black and blue writing on it, listen intently to the lesson I am being taught, and have a notebook on my desk and pencil in my hand writing everything, and I can still somehow manage to get nothing out of the lesson and think about so many other things. I don’t mean I am not listening to the lesson, I mean I am listening but it comes in one ear and out the other. Just like that I can just not hear anything other than the shatter of 1,000 dreams, and it sounds worse than the shatter of glass, and it stays 10x longer.
Think of the smell, the smell of broken glass. That’s the thing, you really can’t; And that’s what it’s like for people to understand you. You just wait for someone to just try finding the trace of anything and you just wait until someone asks “Are you okay?” and you say “Yeah, I’m fine” and they stop, tell you “No, you’re not.” And hug you, because that hug was never given to you ever before and finally someone noticed, but they will never understand, why? The scent of understanding anything is almost non-existing, and sadly it will always be that way.
Think of the sight of the glass, how you flinch for a second and then go back to your day. Think of how many people just stare at you when you’re just breaking more and more in front of them, and they let it go as “No big deal”, or if you’re lucky, they throw you a few band aids for the person who finally decides to help.
But what’s a band aid to a wound that needs stitches ?