Girls like me

 

I have always admired raindrops. They fall tirelessly with a passion only nature can understand. Whatever they chose to fall on becomes one with them, wet and fragile.

But most of all, raindrops never fall alone. They have a billion ways to redefine their own existence within their own infinity, no matter how small it is. They make sure they fall as hard as they can until it’s time to stop. I have always desired to be that, but as life unfolds you begin to understand that you are the ground where the raindrops fall should be on. Never ready to give back yet you want to be given and nourished, silly!

Girls like me admire beauty from a distance.

They analyze and hide their own wants within them. They burn with desire, only known to them. They love silently and selfishly. They understand betrayal and pain because somehow, they have found most of their love in between. Their skins tell stories of love, sexuality and lies… fabricated together, but they don’t show it. They have grown to embrace silence as a beauty they have always known.

Girls like me are wild at heart.

We do not understand elegance as just a piece of expensive clothing or jewellery. We do not expect you to pull our chairs and open our doors. We do not expect you to call cab drivers so we get home safe, because ours is a jungle we are used to. We do not wait for a sorry. We forgive because we understand how reckless tongues can be. We do not admire mere intelligence because we know everybody strives to be smart so they can fit in.

I have grown to believe that everyone means malice. That loving is like rain itself, yet too afraid to believe that it exists, and foolish enough to ignore that God himself is love.

Girls like me run.

We never want to stay because what we never want, comes to us. We sit on our bathroom floors hoping tomorrow never comes. Hoping the moon doesn’t set. Hoping no one will know we are broken and alone.

Strong enough to smile and say we are good… because we have fallen so many times before, and each time we hope to fall and weaken the ground. Make it fragile for us, but we keep falling on the wrong grounds that were never meant to be home.

So we stay down, hoping when it rains next… raindrops will fall harder and make us fragile. Enough to trust again.

Girls like me laugh.