The Meaning of Being Loved

Act 3 Chapter 1

Ever since I was young, I was always known as the brightest student in the class. Well, one of the brightest anyway. My teachers and classmate were either asking “How did you do that so effortlessly” or “Why are you still here? You should’ve been somewhere else!” The answer to both was and still is, “I don’t know.” I just like to learn I guess. I’m just naturally curious and occasionally got lucky. Because, why are we here if it’s not to keep asking questions? Why are we even here, if it’s not to test and challenge what we know of the world?

But god had to nerf me by giving me troubles in making friends. The only “friend” that I made during my elementary school year was my twin sister. Which is pathetic if you think about it. I never understood how people love, how people determine your “coolness” level and therefore accept you socially. If I have to guess there must be a system at play here, right? Maybe they judge you based on your knowledge on pop culture. Maybe they judge you based on how you dress. Maybe they judge you based on your popularity. I know for sure it’s not based on how well you know a certain academic topic.

When I got back home, I didn’t really know what to say when my parents asked about how my day went. They’re usually absent anyway. They’re always on a work trip somewhere, or working overtime somewhere. Whatever, right? So there’s no point of me narrating how my day went. But for some reasons they always had the time to ask about my performance at school. To which I always replied,

“It went well. I got a perfect mark.”

Which they always responded well. To motivate me further, they promised me lots of stuff. And I asked for plenty of things. Naturally, I tried to see the limits of what I can and can’t ask. I asked for a Thinkpad laptop all the way to an acoustic guitar (that I secretly gave to my sister, I think there’s some favoritism going around). But it seems like they’re more willing to give me everything than to teach me about the meaning of being loved.

As I got older I know I can’t survive if the slightest of human interaction scares the shit out of me. So I was determined to change. I observed how my classmates interacted with each other and took notes. I made and tested one hypothesis to another. I came up with theories and strategies. Until I realized that people start to notice me if I gave them something. Like an answer to that one math question that’s too hard for a sixth grader, or a shiny trophy big enough to fill the school’s cabinet. Sometimes I committed myself to things I know were too much for me to handle, because opportunities, they never come twice! I had to seize them while I still can. They pushed me to places I’ve never seen before. They introduced me to mentors I’ve idolized. This it it. I’ve figured it all out!