No, this is not just a funky title, I really do have a question that I really would like an answer to. When I was younger, around the second grade, I remember having my first crush. Her name was Jeanette. Its strange to realize how small details stand out so much about someone specific. It’s like part of your brain already knows this person will somehow be significant in your life so it chooses to embed them in your soul. I remember I loved how she always smelled like her super fruity strawberry lip gloss and how her nose would crinkle when she laughed, I remember I could pick her voice out of an entire classroom full of kids, and how she always wore tennis shoes with the dresses that she wore. I obviously didn’t know I had a crush on her at this young age I just thought of her as someone I always looked forward to seeing. Then one day I remember I was excited because I had gotten new shoes. They were blue suede Nike that had that kind of swoosh that changed color depending on how you looked at it. I also wore my special t-shirt that made me feel extra cool.
So I was walking up this long hallway my school had. It went along the asphalt that had the four square and dodgeball lines and looped around the classroom buildings. I remember it was in the morning so there was still dew on the grass and the sunlight lit the open hallway in a way that made it almost seem like the cream colored columns were glowing. I remember she had a light pink dress with a white square in the middle and that she wore her long brown hair up in a bun that day. She walked right up to me and said, “I’m sorry James, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to hate you.”
So this post is a little different. Most of the time I have a writing assignment from my therapist. I get a subject or even like a broad topic or area of my life and I expand on that. However, this evening I find that I’m just…frustrated. And this frustration has led to a kind of spiral of thoughts for me. I circle back to an instance last summer where I met someone and without going into much detail about what exactly happened, I will just sum up by saying that we met and we talked for about five months. Then things got complicated and I took a step back, I let her know so I wouldn’t ghost her and the agreement was made that we would always be friends. Well, fast forward about a month and I was in the middle of one of the worst depressions I’ve ever experienced. I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t taking care of myself, I wasn’t getting out of bed. Prior to our break, this person was my best friend so I had thought I could reach out to her, and that in turn she would value our friendship enough to be there for me. Long story short. She wasn’t. In fact, she ended up ghosting me two weeks after I told her what I was going through.
So I’m a bit late with this blog because last week my therapist gave me a writing assignment that I was totally not ready to do. But in a good way. When she said it, I think she kind of laughed because she saw my face. It must’ve looked something like when your favorite hoodie comes out of the washer a different color than when you put it in. Like a genuinely confused, what in the ever living fuck are you talking about face. So what was this writing assignment that threw me off so badly? It was pretty simple. Write about something you are good at. I think my response was, “What do you mean?” Like she had just given me some cryptic hidden message I had unearth.