While the prettiest of girls tease on the ‘ugly’ ones there are pretty people with their words. Your parents must tell you that so often because you forget the second you walk out of the kitchen. The only place you sit in class is the back because if somebody asks how your weekend was you’ll have to answer back. You feel the tsunami of emotions inside of you ready to burst out, but you can’t. Because your eyeliner was perfect and your foundation was 80 dollars. So you keep it in. Your classmates ask while you look like your holding your breath but you answer with “That's just how I look.” So they walk away and you run to the bathroom. You know the mean girls aren’t there so you sit in the stall and cry. The pain is unbearable. People ask you why you’re always sad and quiet. You answer with “That’s just me” but is it really. me? That quiet drawing kid that is me. So please leave me alone. You ask if you can come over but I say “I have no place to go” because I don’t belong. I sit in the gym and eat lunch because I know the drawing kids are there too. They often exchange art with me. I print their art and give them the original because I want them to remember that life will probably get better. But who am I to say that? I shouldn’t know because my life is at an all-time low.
Now stay with me, at home our parents ask if we made friends and we say “same as yesterday.” And they will say “Okay” My art teacher is my only true friend. She smiles at my work but I get stuck with the names like teacher's pet, nerd, geek, stupid artist, whatever terrible name they can come up with I have been called it. The fights I’ve started and ended have left me dreading school. I dread the day one of my middle school friends asks me to come to their weddings years later.
So please stay with me, sure I had the artsy kids but I never felt more calm or safe other than when I was sitting on a truck at 10 pm on a breezy night. I sat there and stared at the sky. The simplicity of it yet it being never-ending intrigued me. I wonder what was out there. I always went to the moon. When I was depressed I went to the moon, when I was sad I went to the moon, when I lost someone I needed so much in my life… I went to the moon. Because I knew the person I care about was looking back down at me. I sat there and imagined their face in the sky. Something was so soothing about it. It made me warm inside even when it was 45 degrees. My parents told me I’d do great things but that’s just a saying. Why a saying you ask? Because every single parent uses this saying at least once in a child’s life. Of course, I had to be that one child that gets told it constantly. I felt safe yet threatened by all the popular kids. So when they say it gets better. Know that it will get worse. So Stay With Me.
© Christopher Willis, 2019. All rights reserved.