I remember when I was a little girl and I would have a huge fight with my brothers; and although I was the one who was wronged, I always turned out to be the guilty one which would only increase my agitation further. As I grew up, I still lost my rightful place till one day my father told me: "You have a problem because you cannot negotiate your way through. You are always blinded with rage, there is no room for logic. You will never get what's yours this way." I admit I was too stubborn and too stupid to fully understand what he said to me back then, but now, he is correct. I am stupid and stubborn, as well as, I lack basic communication skills that allows others to understand me.
I know I cannot get people to understand what I am saying half of the time, and it reaches to frustration so I either mumble or talk aimlessly hoping that they would catch the drift amidst the madness, hopefully.
Sometimes I really hate my job, I like to think of myself as the strictest, most professional person on planet Earth. It helps to know that I have an unchangeable fact in my life. You know, since life ends, friends come and go, love does not last forever, people die, etc. The other day, a student places a flirtatious poem in my purse while I was outside class. When I discovered the wretched piece of paper, I was disgusted from myself. I kept thinking and going back to what did I do to give him a glimpse of hope that I might be interested in him. I always make sure that their is a 50 meter high wall between myself and my students, specially the boys. I make sure that I am not in anyway appealing to them, I don't ask them how was their weekend, or how did they do on an important test. I try to show that I could not care less about their lives outside my class. Yet, I got the wretched poem. I felt my skin crawl. It was terrible. The comments I got weren't that helpful either, it was a joke for my colleagues, something, I did not appreciate at all. In fact, I despised it more than the wretched poem. So what did I do? Well, I told him off, I told him I was his teacher and he was my student regardless the fact that the age difference is not that huge. That did not matter to me, so it should not matter to him. I threw the poem away and writing about it is the last stage for me to get it out of my system.
However, the Universe refused to let a silly poem ruin my day, so she got another student of mine to write me the most adorable letter I have ever read. To be honest, that was my first letter ever. I have never received a letter before, and it sent me to the moon! It was so sweet, caring and respectful. It was a thank you letter from the quietest student in my class! In it, he thanked me for being his teacher and how I have influenced him. I almost cried, the good crying, not the sad one!
And yet, when you go and tell a special someone about it, never a good idea. Lesson learned: Perfect the poker face.
I don't know how to communicate, but I have expectations. Spending time with me without running away, gives me faith and hope that I might be somehow predictable and that you can read what is not said. I wanted support and that it was okay, that I got, which was fine. However, next day's attitude was strange. I am a social retard but I feel stuff. I felt I was something to be avoided so as not to cause trouble and I was right. Maybe the best reaction for now is to not react. It is pointless, and I am disappointed.
Peace out! H!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTPsuyXXgbo
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