Those who Understand

I'm rereading
The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
 and i just feel sad and alone.
not lonely per say, just alone.

He expresses life so truly, so rawly.
so openly.
I hardly know what to say.



I think i've decided that there are two kinds of people in the world.
the kind that understand the moments when "I swear we were infinite" and the moments of complete desolation and loneliness like the poem in The Perks of Being a Wallflower that says

"that's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
and he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
because that's what it was really all about
and he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
and he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didnt think
he could reach the kitchen"

 and then there are people that just don't get it.
I think a good way to describe it is a He is We song:


People, they seem so interested.
Only a few get infested,
With all the aches and pains.
Doctor oh, doctor,
Please help her.
I fear she may not be breathing.
Blue lips, and doe eyes,
That’s her disguise.


There are a few like us who understand the aches and pains of the mind and heart and soul. Its not a bad thing to not be one of these people. my dad is a person who understands. My mom is not. and thats okay.
The people who understand are people who understand the musical Next to Normal and the book Impulse by Ellen Hopkins. They understand The Perks of Being a Wallflower and Looking for Alaska by John Green.
There are people who can grow to Understand and people who are born Understanding and people who never ever get it.


Which one are you?