It was a typical day for any six-year-old. Kids were running around the playground, playing, laughing, but one kid was getting confused to?
"What did you say?"
"I think your awesome ..." silence.
"—and I like you a lot," Sl said, looking down at the ground before glancing up with the biggest smile I had ever seen. Embarrassed, but still smiling.
At the time, I didn't really care what he had to say because I had just turned seven, and I thought I was better than him—even though he was turning seven next month.
"Whatever. Do you want to play with us or not?" I said with the most unbothered tone, like I hadn't just heard him confess.
"Oh yeah, I'll be there in a sec," Sl said, running off toward his mom. She handed him a water bottle, and they talked for a minute.
I stared at him and thought, Does Mom have water? I'm thirsty.
I did think about what he said when I got home, but not as much as I should've. Because nothing could've prepared me for the next ten years.
Every day, I would see his face. And every day, he'd tell me the exact same thing:
"I like you. You know that, right?"
Every. Single. Day.
And every time, I'd shrug it off.
By the time we got to middle school, every teacher, even our parent, and
our friends thought we were best friends. But the truth was: I didn't want him around.
I'd even tell him to go away and find someone else to bother—nicely, of course.
"Hey, if you don't mind, could you just find someone else to bother?"
Okay, maybe not that nicely, but for me, that was nice.
"Um, no, I don't think so. I want to be around you all the time," he said, running in circles around me with a smile on his face.
I sighed and kept walking, thinking he'd give up eventually—knowing he'd been like this since elementary school.
How foolish of me to think he'd ever change.It was a typical day for any six-year-old. Kids were running around the playground, playing, laughing, but one kid was getting confused to?
"What did you say?"
"I think your awesome ..." silence.
"—and I like you a lot," Sl said, looking down at the ground before glancing up with the biggest smile I had ever seen. Embarrassed, but still smiling.
At the time, I didn't really care what he had to say because I had just turned seven, and I thought I was better than him—even though he was turning seven next month.
"Whatever. Do you want to play with us or not?" I said with the most unbothered tone, like I hadn't just heard him confess.
"Oh yeah, I'll be there in a sec," Sl said, running off toward his mom. She handed him a water bottle, and they talked for a minute.
I stared at him and thought, Does Mom have water? I'm thirsty.
I did think about what he said when I got home, but not as much as I should've. Because nothing could've prepared me for the next ten years.
Every day, I would see his face. And every day, he'd tell me the exact same thing:
"I like you. You know that, right?"
Every. Single. Day.
And every time, I'd shrug it off.
By the time we got to middle school, every teacher, even our parent, and
our friends thought we were best friends. But the truth was: I didn't want him around.
I'd even tell him to go away and find someone else to bother—nicely, of course.
"Hey, if you don't mind, could you just find someone else to bother?"
Okay, maybe not that nicely, but for me, that was nice.
"Um, no, I don't think so. I want to be around you all the time," he said, running in circles around me with a smile on his face.
I sighed and kept walking, thinking he'd give up eventually—knowing he'd been like this since elementary school.
How foolish of me to think he'd ever change.