Broken Wings Can Fly

So this is my life. It ain’t one of those movies or books, where everything is made up and everything WILL be alright in the end. This is my world. Dark, dingy, horrible. Nothing is ever going to change that. I am stuck here. There is no Prince Charming to come save me with one kiss.1

I guess you can call me a hopeless romantic, huh?2

People keep telling me that I will grow out of this phase. How can THIS be a phase? I mean, phases are not something that last for years upon years. You can correct me if I am wrong. I just thought phases were like that time you thought you would be a farmer in the 1st grade. You soon realize that may not be the best thing for you since you are addicted to sleeping in. You move on. That is a phase you went though.3

No, this is not a phase. This is a mood. A personality trait. Yeah, that was the phrase I was searching for. It is not a life sucks phase. It has been around long enough for it to count as who I am.4

I am that girl that never gets the guy. Mainly due to the fact that he is gay. I am used that. You live and hopefully learn how to spot the gay guys before falling head over heels in love with them. Whatever, you deal. I am also that girl in high school who ended up being a townie. You know, that type. Hated the school, hated the town, mainly hated the world. And yet against all the odds did not murder someone. Nor did she actually kill herself. And also against all the odds she is still living in the town she hates in the world she hates. Only now she in a job, which she also hates.5

At least I did not end up being one of those girls who hated everything about the town, but must stay ‘cause that is where my kid’s father is currently living. No, my luck of choosing the wrong guy to like prevented this. I can leave this town any time I so please. I just like being in a town I hate and where everyone who lives here thinks I am the ghost of the town or something. I enjoy that. It’s how I get my kicks. (Hey I got to them somehow.)6

I guess you could say, I am that girl who allowed the world to kick the crap out of me. That’s me. The one beaten and broken in the corner of the room. The one you always wanted to see cry, but refused to let you break her to that point. Besides, did you really thing you were the worst thing life had thrown at that girl? No, you were just the one that never went away. The one that pushed her to the edge again and again and again. Jerk.7

But that is really not what I was trying to tell you about. For once this is a story about me. The common loser of the town. The girl that has less than five friends, but that’s alright. Anymore friends and I would lose track of their names. And there is nothing worst than having someone come up to you and be all friendly and you be all “Who the HELL are you and why are you HUGGING me???”8

Yeah that could be weird. I imagine. I am the person everyone thought would fail. Guess what? I believed that statement so much, I am failing. At everything you could fail at. That’s be the idiot who believed you and your killer words.9

Care to hear a secret? I refuse to be that loser anymore. I am no longer your village idiot. (Trivia fact. Did you know you were mine?) I am going to do something with my broken wings. What about you? What will you do when someone comes along and tears off you wings like you did to that butterfly in the 2nd grade? I fully believe someone will. It is bound to happen to you. It happens to everyone. I believe now, it is not the fact that this happens to you. It is how you deal with it that makes the difference. If you get right back up and begin flying again, you are much stronger than me. However if you, like myself, crash and burn and then for fun fall flat on you face, how do you pick yourself up? Do you ever fly again?10

That is the real million dollar question.11

And that is the whole reason for this story. (You knew there had to be one.)12