Creature

It took you so long to realize that you weren't the same as the creatures. In appearance there'd be no telling you apart from them, and perhaps that's why it took until tonight to realize the truth. You were raised as one of them, and initially the shoe seemed to fit - but there wasn't any room for growth. The older you grew the further the two of you grew apart, the tighter that shoe became. You talked like them but you didn't think like them. There wasn't the right wiring within you. You'd try to comprehend their reasoning, their rationale - but it was like trying to don an umbrella in a blizzard; frustrating, and pointless. And oh how you did try. But throughout the years of flawed impressions self loathing birthed from your panicked ineptitude. You tried chemically inducing the feelings they spoke of, recklessly consuming synthetic cocktails of happiness, love, ego. None of it worked, and in the cold light of morning you found yourself even further away; stranded in an oar-less boat, thousands of miles from the shore of belonging.

It wasn't until you were crowded by them in this room that your epiphany struck. You were not to blame. You'd always felt you were in a forest, surrounded by featureless trees. They whispered around you in a gusty breeze, their chorus hitting you but their noise illegible. In the past you'd chase any murmur of camaraderie, run through the labyrinth for a glimmer of a recognizable reflection. Yet every hopeful corner you turned you'd be met with the same confusing dead ends. Your exhausted heart could no longer take the inevitable disappointment. It was time you accepted who you were, and stopped trying to be human. So it was there, surrounded by a sociable cluster of your supposed friends, that you realized you were entirely alone. Your forest became a barren meadow, as you abandoned your faith in rescue. The solitude struck you deeply. Without the protection of your trees you were chilled to the bone with an unyielding loneliness. You thanked Brian for having you, picked up your coat, and left. And as you allowed the cold of the December night to embrace you, akin through the pathetic fallacy of your dystopia, you hoped to god no one ever noticed what kind of creature you really were.