I also don’t appreciate masses of people the way others do. They make me feel nervous and edgy, and god forbid I’m the center of attention. Want to see me turn beet red? Have a crowd focus their attention solely on me. I have no grand dreams to be a movie star or something similar. I value my privacy far too much.

On the other hand, my personality has shifted towards being much more social and outgoing than I previously was. Back in high school, I was painfully shy. Literally. Maybe the reason no one ever remembered my name was because no one remembers the wall flower, especially when she has two rather boisterous friends (they were still awesome friends though). University and college were no better. I made one or two friends in the entire 5 years and I didn’t keep in contact with them. And talking to guys? That was yet another way to get me to blush.

I’m not entirely certain where my personality turned around or even what caused it. Perhaps working in retail helped develop my backbone, made me bold. After all, it’s hard to stay completely shy when you have to yell over 30 10-year-olds. Maybe it was my roommate being downright stubborn about pulling me out of my shell. Or it could just be good old growing up.

Regardless, I can now do things I would have never thought possible before. Talking over Ventrilo with someone new? No problem, I greet them with a cheery hello. Years ago I would have died rather than talk to a stranger. As a matter of fact, in high school, my phone conversations with my friends would never go over 1/2 an hour. These days I can spend all day talking with someone I’ve never met in person, albeit it’s not a non-stop conversation. At least over Vent, I’m still a bit rusty over the phone.

In person I’m still somewhat shy but I don’t get flustered just from someone paying attention to me. When someone asks me what my interests are, I don’t answer with “stuff” and “things” anymore because I’m not as self-conscience about what I tell them. If we have similar interests, I can actually keep up a good conversation for a couple hours. Hell, I can even crack jokes without freaking out. I’m able to talk about myself in respect to deep meaningful topics without being paranoid that everyone will think I’m crazy. My shell is still there but it’s much thinner than it was before.

I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve but I’m not as terrified as I was before that I’m going to be hurt. Oh I still worry, wondering if everything will come crashing down on me if I say one wrong word or do one wrong thing. But I’ve also come to the realization that living safe all the time isn’t living. If I don’t take the chance of giving a little bit of myself in hopes that it might improve my life, I’ll go nowhere. If I get rejected, then oh well, that person probably wasn’t worth my time anyways.

Part of me is still the misanthrope, taking pleasure in being by myself, away from others. But more and more I’m realizing that there are people out there who do know where I’m coming from and can actually relate to me. In years past I felt as though I was my own race, the only one left (there’s teen angst for you). But curiousity prompted me to crawl out from under my rock and actually take a look around. I may still be different from the majority and unique in my own respects, but I am not alone. Not by a long shot.

*quietly sings “Que Sera Sera” as she wanders off*

Then there was that chilly night in February so many years ago. My friend Angele and I were waiting outside for our other friend Amanda (who had run off without us but that’s another story). It was cold, probably around -30 Celsius, and very crisp, so much so that the snow crunched beneath our boots. There was no wind to speak off and no animals, people, or vehicles to break the silence save ourselves.

I don’t remember exactly who saw it first and what it looked like when it began to creep up from the horizon. What I do remember is stepping away from the buildings to get out of the electric lights and standing in the middle of the driveway just staring upwards.

It was unlike anything I have ever seen before and have yet to see since. The Lights were a green that wasn’t bright or yellowish but still glowed vibrantly without a neon-like appearance. The entire northern half of the sky was filled with it. I could see the Lights move in waves and curls and spikes, the motions being sedated individually but together…it was as though the night sky had turned to a liquid filled with currents and eddies. There were too many shapes to pick out but I didn’t even try. It didn’t seem chaotic or busy in the least.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

It was peace. It was serenity. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I don’t think there are words in any language that could do its beauty justice.

It was almost an hour before it finally faded away and Amanda returned. An hour that we both stood there in complete awe of the Lights. A year wouldn’t have been long enough to gaze at it, never mind a mere hour.

With my awful memory, there’s a lot of things I forget. But the most precious things in my life always remain clear to me, and if I close my eyes I can see the Lights again wavering over me. So silent yet so close that if I could reach just a little higher than I could on my tiptoes, my fingertips would brush against it.

With life as it is, sometimes I wish I could just go back to the night and stand there forever. To let the silence and solitude seep into my bones and muscle and let the Lights hold my soul again.

That’s what I need right now…a little beauty in my life. Something to lift my gaze upward and give me something to reach for.