Sparks.

Everyone has some kind of spark in their eyes.

It may be a mischievous spark or a spark of constant hatred or perhaps just a soft shimmer that shows you they are still human and still very much alive.

Some peoples sparks are excited, or kind, or scared, or scary. It doesn’t matter what that person’s spark tells you about them because it’s always changing. One day their spark dances and jumps with joy. The next day it quivers with fear or shines fiercely.

People always see your spark, and they always understand it. It helps them understand you. And when someone sees your spark you’ll know. Perhaps they’ll say it, or maybe their demeanor or expression will shift a bit.

Different sparks cause different reactions. A happy spark makes them happy. A scared spark makes them concerned. A fierce spark always intimidates everyone. But when people look into my eyes, they always have the same reaction. It doesn’t matter who they are or what my day was like. It’s always the same reaction. The same shift of emotion, the same confused expression as they search my entire face for something thats not there, only to look away solemnly.

I always knew I was different but I never really knew why, until the day I looked into the mirror, and I mean really looked into it. I stared through my eyes all the way into the fabric of my very being and thats when I realized…..

…I don’t have a spark.