A Letter From The Quiet Kid

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Dear reader,

This is the quiet kid. The one who sits in the middle of the class and doesn’t say a word. The one that stays in their bedroom for large portions of the waking day. The one you see walking to and from school alone. The one that might meet your eyes when you say hi to them in the street but you hear no reply. Or the one that might ignore you completely. Sometimes by accident.

Hi.

I want to talk right now, and I know I don’t talk a whole lot. So I hope you’ll listen.

You probably have questions. I’m guessing the likes of “why are you so quiet?”, “why don’t you talk?”, “why can’t you just call them up?”, “why don’t you just get up and go in?”, “why are you so weird?” have crossed your mind. I mean, I’ve heard it a lot. Like, a lot. So here’s my answer.

I. Don’t. Know.

I don’t know why I’m so quiet, or weird, or don’t like talking to some people. I don’t know why a simple task such as picking up my phone and calling someone for some information is so difficult. I don’t know why sometimes, I find it so difficult to just “go in” or in the remarkable words of Shia LeBeouf, “just do it”. I. Don’t. Know. Believe me. I’ve been trying to figure it out for years and years now. So don’t rub it in.

Don’t you think I wish I knew? Don’t you think that if I knew, I’d be trying to do something about it, and maybe have some progress after 9 years?

Honestly though, I’ve been struggling with this for so long, I’ve kind of gotten used to it. I’m scared to change – even though I want to. Does that make sense? I want to change but I’m scared… I think it does right? Like you might want to go skydiving, but you’re scared… I guess that’s a different type of scared. It’s more of a fear, a phobia almost.

Anyway.

My mum’s calling me for dinner so I’ll wrap this up. But I’ll write again.

Thanks for listening if you did.

The quiet kid.

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