Kyla Bingham (Written circa October/November 2011 – Modified/Completed January 25, 2012)


She’s tired of being the chaperone.

She knows there’s nothing worse than being in a roomful of people and still feeling all alone.

She’s tired of being overlooked—viewed as what’s in the litter box instead of as the pick of the litter.

She’s so much more than a really good friend, a go-to-girl or built-in babysitter.

She gets tired of being the strong one, being the one who’s known for her smile and encouraging the world all the while ignoring the pain that’s raging inside.

Sometimes she really wants to weep instead of laugh, make a mistake without being judged, scream and scratch, be rude and snide.

But she knows she’ll never do it because what good would that do?

She’d wind up more alienated than she is already PLUS looking and feeling like a fool.

But there are times she’d love to be invited to the party or the concert, be escorted to the dance.

She doesn’t know how far it might go, but she’d love to have the chance.

She’s been living her life in neutral—unable to reverse to childhood or drive forward to being a woman with all that it entails.

She’s just stuck in the mud.

Spinning her wheels.

Grinding and stripping the gears.

Gunning the engine with no traction until it’s flooded. . .so her battery dies and the transmission fails.

Because she’s surrounded by couples, she feels so excluded. She doesn’t get the inside joke—she’s missing out on all their fun.

So she slowly fades away into the background and wonders what’s wrong with herself and why she doesn’t have a “plus one”.

Is it the hedge she’s built around herself to make sure that her private agony doesn’t become a public hell?

Is there no one able to even try to scale that wall, shake its foundation, crack that shell?

And though she’s oft misjudged as being aloof or intimidating, she’d be worth the effort because at her core she’s soft, but at the same time, God she’s so afraid.

She just doesn’t know how to be vulnerable so she needs a warrior to stage a coup and mount a raid.

Because there’s light inside her, it’ll just take someone strong and special to see it.

To be secure enough for them both and to know that whatever is needed, she’ll be it.

But she fears this soldier must not exist—either that or she’s alone because she’s just not smart or pretty.

Or perhaps it’s because she’s too outspoken—maybe a bit too witty.

Is it because she’s not a size 6, and you can bet she never will be.

How I wish that I knew this girl so I could comfort her—oh wait, I do know her—she’s me.

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