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Fun.
Fun.
It’s the pit of nausea swallowing you in a crowd,
the numb face-down position that night on your pillow.
The dance, the game, the party, it’s all so
Fun.
It’s the tears falling as you ask 10-year-old you
Why
Why can't she let loose?
Why she always has to ruin the
Fun.
It’s feeling older than kids your age,
the awkward silences you cause.
This lifelong worry you’ll always be boring and never
Fun.
It’s the anger towards yourself for even trying to dance.
The hatred towards mom as she asks why you’re staying in.
It’s the apology brimming as soon as it hits you.
It’s
Fun.
It’s the plague of 10-year-old me
It’s the shame of 16-year-old me
And it’s something I’m scared I’ll never have.
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This piece summarizes how I've felt like I cannot have true fun for basically my whole life. From a very young age I felt as though everyone around me felt carefree and happy when we were hanging out and I was the weird one for feeling self conscious and nervous.