Jack and Annie from Magic Tree House were my best friends growing up. I wanted to go see Camelot with them, and meet the ghosts of New Orleans, and tag along to ancient Egypt to meet Cleopatra. Then, Samantha from the American Girl Dolls was my friend- I loved her quiet spunk and how she and I had the same haircut. By second grade, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were keeping me company when I sat alone in that elementary school lunchroom. Freshman year of high school, I found a companion in Charlie from Perks of Being A Wallflower- he and I seemed to be almost the same person. Everyone from the girls of Little Women in 6th grade to Aristotle and Dante’s secret universe have been a major player in my world at some point or another.

Needless to say, I never (and still don’t) have many friends- I didn’t really see the need for popularity, and I still just don’t really get the constant desire to be the center of attention of all times.

There’s a word for people like me, and I identify with it strongly.

Wallflower.

(Thanks for that one, Charlie. Lots of love.)(even though you’re technically not real)(BUT HE IS…)

I’m not quite sure how to write an irrelevant profound conclusion for this particular post. I could say that wallflowers are important because someone has to always be there and just remember everything, but I don’t feel that way. I won’t lie to you- it gets hard sometimes. It can get lonely. It sucks when you end up sitting alone at homecoming, or when you always have to ask the teacher after class if you can just work alone on the project because no one picked you as a partner. It sucks.

I guess I’m still working on this one.

Give me a year. Then maybe I’ll have an answer.

Don’t take over the world without me.

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