4. Snowflake

Once upon a time, I thought that love was a myth. I believed that love didn't exist; it was simply a form of infatuation. Of course, when that is spoken of, it has to be taken into consideration that I was speaking of romantic love. The type that you read in books which make you sob endlessly, and shiver with the intense feelings of the emotions the characters possessed for each other.

A cynic. That was me. What else did you expect? I'm not gorgeous. I don’t have a good charisma. People don't feel the urge to talk to me. One thing that I could claim for myself though was the fact that I was intelligent. I worked hard for it, I refused to partake in the lingo that everyone else would use. I was slightly secretive, slightly snobbish. I didn't look down at these people, oh no, I felt inferior to them.

I didn't belong anywhere. Even surrounded with people that somewhat expressed the fact they were like me, I never felt like I deserved to be there. My emotions were either too strong, or not strong enough. I yearned for more. I wanted so much more. I wanted to be famous, not in the way that actresses or singers were; just a well known name in the world - someone who'd contributed to the world. I wasn't brilliant enough for that, unfortunately.

'My special little snowflake,' my mother used to call me, smiling, her eyes lighting up whenever I entered the room. She was the only person in the world who made me feel like I could be anyone I wanted to. She didn't judge me, and when she did - it was for my own good.

Now I was half a world away from her, in a university full of people who chattered to fill the deafening silence that would otherwise fill the large halls. I missed her so much, God, my heart twisted thinking through that process.

Other people had expectations of me, my mother, the dear old lass, she wanted me to be happy in the end. I'd pour my heart out to her and at the end she'd smile tiredly before offering me the advice which I so keenly thirsted for.

"Lovely, come on,' my roommate called out in frustration. 'You're taking far too long.'

"I told you that I'm not coming," I replied tersely, just wishing for home at this point.

"No," she told me, persisting stubbornly, "You're not even dressed!"

I looked at her dryly, starting to get peeved off when she dragged me off the bed and into the bathroom. She did things to me that were only mere dreams to me and when she finally revealed my reflection, my reaction was nothing but utter boredom.

"Girl, you look hot!" She exclaimed, slamming a pair of killer shoes in front of me. "Now, get a smile on that sullen face of yours and get with the boys."

I huffed, going along with her, wobbling precariously in the shoes before grabbing her shoulder as a final judgement. As reluctant as I was to go, I knew that I had to start exposing myself to society. Who knows, maybe I'd even find that one person who I could unload all my shit on. I thought that every single time I've gone out and it's never done anything for me.

I'm not someone that anyone could care for. No personality, nothing. I can't hold a conversation to save my life. I end up stammering and not being able to talk. And when it came to men? I was even worse.

"Drinks?" she offered me.

Giving her a look, I settled myself comfortably into the couch, watching the raving people in there dancing and laughing and just having a very generally good time in their life.

And I just sat there, observing. I watched an old man sneak in with a camera snapping candid shots of the giggling members on the dance floor. I saw my roommate getting taken up to a room by a smirking young man who appeared to be taking advantage of my ditzy acquaintance. Hope she turned out alright, I guess.

"And what might you be doing here?" A voice, smooth and rough, asked me.

"Staying away from people like you." I turned my head away, wishing that he'd sit next to me, put his arm around me and just ask me about how I was feeling. Why I was feeling it.

Of course that didn't happen. He furrowed his eyebrows, storming away and as I watched him make his way to another hot blonde, another man yelled out to him. He stopped abruptly, digging into his back pocket and bringing out his wallet before removing a large number of notes that he then deposited in the other man's hands.

Huh. So I was a bet, then. See if you can get the little loner by the corner. And then ditch her for someone who is so much more better than her. Who was so much more funnier. Who was receptive towards their advances.

One day. One day I was going to find someone who appreciated me for who I was. For what I was going to be. For what I had been.

Inspired by me. And The Perks To Being A Wallflower. Understandable that it is a bit crude but that's the point. Feel the emotions, I teared up whilst writing it which is stupid so I shouldn't have told you that.

Oh well.

Allons-y!