"She has a soul."

Walking into Journalism earlier this past week, that was the first thing three people said to me.
The night before that, one of my good friends and I had a conversation that went a bit like this:

• Me: I think I might like someone. I'm not sure, though.
• Him: Aw, it's nice to know that you have feelings. You are human; I didn't know. I thought you sold your soul to the Devil.

It's funny and all I suppose, but it really does get your mind going. So many people, unassociated and unknown to each other, who just so happen to share the same opinion. Maybe there is some truth to what they say. Maybe I don't have a soul, or, if I do have one, it is like the heart of the Grinch, it is "two sizes too small."

People can joke about it all they want, but I don't know... It doesn't necessarily hurt or upset that comments like are dropped every now and then. It just... bothers me a bit. Bothers me in the sense that I wasn't aware that it was such an ongoing joke amongst people that I am a heartless fiend without feelings.

Ah, I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say.

Actually. No. I think I know why it bothers me so. It's just that no matter what, it seems that people don't fully understand me. I'm not saying that I am different in any way because of that.  I don't think any one person is every fully understood by another, even if that other is themself.

I guess it's frustrating that people are so very much so veered off the actual path of who I am. Honestly, I would consider myself to be a fairly emotional person. I care, I feel, I pain and I rejoice just as any other person does.

Simply, just because I'm cynical, doesn't mean that I have no feelings. As lame and clichéd as that may sound.