What I did not know, was
what would come next in our
conversation. We usually do
not talk about deep things, but
I started running out of questions.
I know your favorite color and I
know how you met your first
husband. So, what was there left
to ask of you? Well, certainly I
would of course find a way to
ask you something.

The question I asked was simple:
What is the worst thing that has
ever happened to you?
Now, ladies and gentleman I did not
expect what came out of her mouth next
due to the fact that I asked the question
nonchalantly. But, instead she looked at me and
said, "I was *****." She then gulped and
looked me straight in the eyes and began her
story, one in which that I had to hurry and text my mother for
to tell her I'd be a few minutes late because I knew I'd
end up telling her mine. She told me about how it was in
high school and how scared she was.
About how terrible it was and that
was why she started self harm.

I shivered at the thought:
we are so alike.

Mostly in good ways, but I hate that she has been through
so much that I have. That we share that same pain.
I told her about how sorry I was and about what
happened to me. That one of my other teachers was
that only reason I was even standing here to be able to
tell this story today.

I then wished her goodnight and told her we could
talk again if she would like, because it felt nice to
talk to someone who understood and
did not look at me like I was a
mere child.

This was on the 2nd of December, and I wish I
would have been able to stay longer to say
all the things that I really wanted to say.
Maybe sometime in the future we will
talk things over, because they really do
settle my mind.