Diary of Broken Heart
Who I amWho Am I?
Actually, Who am I? This is an unanswered question that throbs my head from the day I came into this universe. My quest is to find an answer to this question.
Before I share my diary with you I would like to tell you a bit about myself, the way I have defined myself to the outside world.
I’m an ordinary woman born in an ordinary family on a tiny island. My parents were not rich but not poor either. They are an average income family. I didn't have any heartbreaks that I can recall now in my childhood, but I was neither happy nor sad. I don't know a term to define what that feeling was. Maybe a boring, dull child would do some justice.
Similarly, I didn't have any likeness or dislikes of my own. Food, clothing, anything my parents provide I’m fine with it. But I remember there's one thing I liked which was solitude. I liked to be alone and do nothing, just stare at something and stay in my world. I haven't had any long term friends until I went to middle school. Talking always exhausted me. I was very poor at expressing myself to others. I was not a good listener either.When I was in grade one I met a friend, she was funny and she talked a lot. Most of the time I was listening to her stories. But sadly she was not selected to the same class in grade 2. So our friendship eventually died. It didn’t make me unhappy as I liked to be alone. I stayed alone without friends until grade 5. It was never an issue for me. If somebody asked something I helped them or I listened to their stories. I never had the need to express myself to anybody or I didn't find someone who really understands me.In the fifth grade, I found another friend, she had issues with her parents and troubled childhood. She was not good at studying as she failed her grade exams, so she repeated the same class again. She was the only girl who was older than us in the fifth grade. Nobody wanted to be her friend. For some reason, she wanted to be my friend. I didn’t mind being her friend.Well, I was also not good at studies and I barely passed the exams.
I didn't know I was good at poetry until a poem I wrote got selected as the best poem written for that grade. It was published in our yearbook too. Those are a few of the memories I have from my childhood.Again, my friendship ended in grade 5 as my friend went to another school.
Basically, I had a dull childhood. I wonder why nothing intrigued or interest me in my childhood.
Who Am I?
Actually, Who am I? This is an unanswered question that throbs my head from the day I came into this universe. My quest is to find an answer to this question.
Before I share my diary with you I would like to tell you a bit about myself, the way I have defined myself to the outside world.
I’m an ordinary woman born in an ordinary family on a tiny island. My parents were not rich but not poor either. They are an average income family.
I didn't have any heartbreaks that I can recall now in my childhood, but I was neither happy nor sad. I don't know a term to define what that feeling was. Maybe a boring, dull child would do some justice.
Similarly, I didn't have any likeness or dislikes of my own. Food, clothing, anything my parents provide I’m fine with it. But I remember there's one thing I liked which was solitude. I liked to be alone and do nothing, just stare at something and stay in my world.
I haven't had any long term friends until I went to middle school. Talking always exhausted me. I was very poor at expressing myself to others. I was not a good listener either.
When I was in grade one I met a friend, she was funny and she talked a lot. Most of the time I was listening to her stories. But sadly she was not selected to the same class in grade 2. So our friendship eventually died. It didn’t make me unhappy as I liked to be alone. I stayed alone without friends until grade 5. It was never an issue for me. If somebody asked something I helped them or I listened to their stories. I never had the need to express myself to anybody or I didn't find someone who really understands me.
In the fifth grade, I found another friend, she had issues with her parents and troubled childhood. She was not good at studying as she failed her grade exams, so she repeated the same class again. She was the only girl who was older than us in the fifth grade. Nobody wanted to be her friend. For some reason, she wanted to be my friend. I didn’t mind being her friend.
Well, I was also not good at studies and I barely passed the exams.
I didn't know I was good at poetry until a poem I wrote got selected as the best poem written for that grade. It was published in our yearbook too. Those are a few of the memories I have from my childhood.
Again, my friendship ended in grade 5 as my friend went to another school.
Basically, I had a dull childhood. I wonder why nothing intrigued or interest me in my childhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment