Painted Smiles

My mother told me that I looked like I had a smile always painted on my face today. She was upset, angry and tired. Talking to me in angry tones, and she stopped abruptly. She asked me why I always looked to have a smile painted on my face. I shrugged. What should I answer that with?

At first I didn't believe her. Nobody can always look to have a smile. But my sisters all looked at me and agreed with my mom. Now I wonder, why? I've read, lived, the most heartbreaking stories. I've felt pain deep in my soul. But I always seem to have a smile painted on my face. Although I have no clue why.

I suppose I will take it as a compliment. A smile brightens every ones day. And a smile always painted on your face, hiding in worried creases and a serious face. In a solemn moment when that might be the only thing to brighten the mood.

But what if it's also a curse? What if a painted smile at all times isn't always the best thing? I've been called to friendly before, by friends. Called to talkative and inclusive. To nice, but never naive. And never before have I been asked about my always painted smile that seems to hide from me in the mirror. Only about the consistent book glued to my nose. But I don't know what to think. Is it more curse or blessing? Who else sees it? Who else wonders about it? Who thinks it's good, and who thinks it's bad? I've heard people call laughter the call of heaven, a smile brighten the coldest day. but what if the laughter that always floats in the air gets annoying, like a song that gets listened to too often. The smile fades away like the sun? There but not always acknowledged. Ignored, and hated by people? I simply don't know what to think.