Smile, for me

You ask me, repeatedly, to smile for you. That you love my smile.

Shoving me along, day in - day out, trying to make conversation...and I just stare at you with my best blank gaze.

You understand, though, and I am glad you described what my social circle is like it better than I couldve. YOU WROTE THIS after I spoke to you at lunch, sitting in my car behind my work, in tears. Thank you for listening.

"If the world is a stage...where is the audience sitting?". I read that earlier today and thought about how almost my whole life, everyone around me has been like an audience for me. I've felt the need to entertain and make laugh and rack my brains out in so many ways it's left me permanently damaged...just to make them forget their problems for a while. To make them laugh and, in a way, like me.

More than once, I've had a great friendship via internet chat or other social networks, and when they meet me in person...one look at me, and they never call me again. Why should my looks matter? I can almost feel their disappointment. Here they were talking to this amazing person online who got their humor, who had a sense of humor of her own, who was easy to get along with. They were so excited to meet her and then...this. Now there's requirements as to what your friends should look like?? Can't imagine what you look for in significant others.

So I come home, and never hear from people again. People that spoke to me a lot and we shared so many things. People that don't think twice the void they left in me. I'm supposed to just accept that they didn't 'click' with me in person, even though I was the same as I was online.

Which brings me to my other performance. I'm tired of people asking me why I've changed. I haven't. That's the thing. This IS me. This is me when I don't feel like being the butt of jokes, when I'm sober, when I'm pensive. This is me when I'm feeling a little gloom. I can't always be a goddamn laugh machine! You know all I want sometimes? I want you to not ask me why I'm different than before or quiet. I want you to hug me and just sit there in silence. Sometimes there isn't anything to say, and that's ok! Silence is golden to me. I try so hard to make YOU comfortable, to ease your long stressful days, sighs. Nevermind.

There's times when I talk about myself, or when I look at my memories, and I feel like Ricky Bobby on Talladega Nights speaking about Baby Jesus. How there's a Baby Jesus, Adolescent Jesus, Divorce Jesus...that's me! I think of lil happy snot faced Yari, Adolescent Yari, Pre-Divorce Yari, Post-Divorce Yari, Young Adult Yari...yikes! You're gonna sit there and wonder if I'm turning Sybil here. Every stage of my life has its good and bad memories. One thing has always been the common denominator. I always had a smile on my face (even if I felt rotten inside) and I always was a good person, a listener, a loving friend, a responsible soul.

Now I've decided to take the mask off for a little bit, purge things...and everyone's up in arms claiming I'm not the same person blah blah...why are you quiet blah blah.

Well hell, if you want fake Yari. The one that will pretend she totally gives a crap...why didn't ya just say so! PLASTIC HAPPY GO LUCKY YAR YAR, Coming Right Up!

"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow