No, That's Not a Branch. It's a Walking Stick.

I used to be a chameleon. Not in the lizardly sense. I used to adapt to everyone's world. Not because I'm fake. Because that's WHO I am. I'm a communicator. I talk to people and listen to people. It never mattered if it was the old man in the donut shop or the doctor at a cocktail party. That's WHO I am. But tonight...I realized...I've lost a piece of me. I was standing in a circle of small talk and *poof* there was no light-hearted banter spewing from my mouth. I couldn't even feign the little "you're oh so amusing" chuckle. I was blank. And on the way home I thought about it. You know what? I don't think I remember how to make smoky eyes with my eye shadow. I'm not sure that I know what to do with smoky eyes. I can't always remember what womanly wiles are and why one would use them. My voice mail greeting doesn't have that mysteriously sexy aura. I can't tell you the name of my girlfriends' highlights. I'm scared to death that my soulmate might call me up and actually expect me to say something insightful. Where is that damned piece of me? I need it back. It's my favorite part.