Nov 2015
I remember that one time I volunteered to hand out snacks at my little brother's 3rd grade end-of-the-year-party.
A father tells his son to say "please" when he asks for a cupcake. I give the boy two, because at his age cupcakes must mean to him what you meant to me.
"Do you see where 'please' will get you?" the father asks, and I want to blurt out, "That's not always true." I want to say, "You can tell someone 'please' and it won't be the magic word, because some people don't believe in magic."
Instead, I nod and smile, but I remember how I asked you to please feel for me what I felt for you, and please don't go, and please don't tell me you have someone else, and please tell me this is some sort of sick joke. I feel my throat close up and I ask if I can please excuse myself, because I need a moment.
I step into the hall and run to the bathroom. I sit in a stall sobbing for 10 minutes. When I realize how ridiculous I must look for crying over a boy who never deserved me, I pledge to never shed a tear over you again. And I kept that promise.
A father tells his son to say "please" when he asks for a cupcake. I give the boy two, because at his age cupcakes must mean to him what you meant to me.
"Do you see where 'please' will get you?" the father asks, and I want to blurt out, "That's not always true." I want to say, "You can tell someone 'please' and it won't be the magic word, because some people don't believe in magic."
Instead, I nod and smile, but I remember how I asked you to please feel for me what I felt for you, and please don't go, and please don't tell me you have someone else, and please tell me this is some sort of sick joke. I feel my throat close up and I ask if I can please excuse myself, because I need a moment.
I step into the hall and run to the bathroom. I sit in a stall sobbing for 10 minutes. When I realize how ridiculous I must look for crying over a boy who never deserved me, I pledge to never shed a tear over you again. And I kept that promise.
