Composing Yourself As Another.

I watched her as she moved so gracefully between the obstacles of tables and chairs, gliding so easily through and in between idle students murmuring amongst themselves. She pranced across the crowded room, and pivoted her way to my side. She smiled as she greeted me, and it was as if it was her smile that lit the whole room. I gazed at her as she delved into conversation, articulating with such passion; her eyes lightened and darkened as she spoke of the wondrous stories of her favourite past-times. Her elegant voice captured the attention of all around her; friends were engrossed in conversation with her.

I looked on at her; her face showed so much charisma and excitement, her eyes flitted to and fro and she waved her hands about. She hopped around daintilly on her toes; her whole body responded to her excitement and joy. Her gestures were outrageously dramatic, but she never seemed to care if anyone would stare at her; whether they would judge her, criticise her, or simply analyse her, she caught the attention of all who would notice. And she made me think about her, day and night.

She was incredibly unpredictable and uncontrollable. Her emotions lay just under her sleeve, ready to burst out whenever it was given the chance. Her smile never ceased to ease tension, and her nimble yet somewhat clumsy movements amused all those who watched. In a peer's perspective, she was a bundle of joy with no boundaries. But to me, I could see her in a different light; she was beautiful, but inside, she was a completely different person. I could see when her eyes darkened, and her face dropped to a numb, and almost pained expression, before composing herself and continuing her cheery chatter. I could see how she seemed like she didn't care what the world thought of her, but secretly she just wished to be understood. I could see how she was so animated, but I knew that all she wanted was to be accepted for who she was. Everyone was interested in what she had to say, but no one could see how hard she tried, just so that they wouldn't leave her for something better.

She was so afraid of losing others that she would never give up trying for them.

And that was just the way she was. She was beautiful in a tragic kind of way.

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I can see how I'm progressively becoming worse. I am striving for something better.

LOL, Sarah.