Him

There wasn't really a time where I didn't notice him. We grew up together, but separate.

I admired him when we were kids. His desire to always seek adventure.

He'd end up hurt and try to act like he was fine, like I did.

I usually kept up with him too. Well. Not running. He was too fast.

Too skinny and aerodynamic. But in spirit I kept up with him.

I remember that he was always hyper, always wanted to do something.

I remember playing truth or dare, and wishing that someone would dare him to kiss me.

I remember being disappointed when he was dared to kiss me and he didn't.

I remember him being there when I started falling for the biggest devastation of my life.

I remember wishing that we were closer. That he could see the potential he saw in her, in me.

Sometimes there are people we just notice. People that no matter where you are in your life, if you see them you will stand up straight and hope that they give you the time of day even though you haven't ever really had a good conversation with them.

You wish you were funnier, or more interesting because then maybe he would seem interested when you talked to him.

I was there when it seemed like he was falling away. Wishing that there was something I could do or say to make it better.

It's good though, to see him now. He's doing well. I don't even have to talk to him to see it. Not that I don't want to.

I'm just scared. Like I've always been.

Scared that he won't notice me.

When I've always noticed him.

When I've noticed him grow up into a man. Finally taking charge and growing. Making progress to do and be better, for himself.

He's so calm now. Like me.

We both used to run around playing games and sports and chasing each other.

I remember when he fell and ripped his cargo pants, leaving his bloody knee exposed.

I remember when he got a concussion playing musical chairs. Musical Chairs.

Now, he seems so stoic almost. Calm and collected, like he's trying to keep in everything that's happened to him. Like me.

Maybe one day he'll look at me and see that he can trust me.

I haven't really talked to him in years. But there's still time.

Time to reach out.

Because when I think of the person I've always noticed, it's always been him.

Sometimes you want them to know, but you don't want to have to say anything.

For a good portion of my life, I have been plagued with shame. I have been overridden with guilt and regret for past decisions and situations that I did not volunteer for.

Sometimes I find myself caught up in it all. It doesn't matter where I am, I can stare off into space and wish that things had been different for me.

Everyone has a tough life, I'm convinced. It doesn't matter who you are, we were made to endure certain struggles and to be made stronger through those struggles.

I have a not so clean past. A past that seems as though it could only be written about in a cruel novel where the main character is always playing the victim.

Today I found myself having a certain discussion with a co-worker about being able to know things about people just based on observations and the way that they act and react to things.

I was interested to hear what he had to say about me, so after about twenty minutes of me begging him and reassuring him that it wouldn't be awkward, he caved.

He started off with a certain situation, basically describing how the guys at the establishment I work at always go to the window to stare at "hot" girls as they walk past, or make me switch them when a hot girl comes to the window. Then he said the word self-conscious.

I know this about myself. It's no big deal.

After I basically pulled it out of him, he said that he would say some key words. So he began. Acceptance. Self-conscious, mentioning the window scenario again, lack of confidence, based on looks, comparing myself to those girls, having a willingness to do whatever to be accepted. All of this was spot on, and yes somewhat general for girls these days anyway. But then he said "and you get upset when the guys make rape jokes, and you don't like to be touched, so there's probably something there.."

My heart sank. How is it, that this person who has known me for three months could know all of this information just by being observant?

Whenever I took a mini-vacation from awareness and decided to let my thoughts travel back to my past I had always wished that someone would see it in my eyes. That someone could just figure it out without me having to spell it out, or awkwardly bring it up. I wanted someone to know and comfort me and tell me that there was no shame.

I wanted them to know, but I didn't want to have to say anything.

This moment for me was exciting. Believe it or not. Someone knew. Someone knew and they didn't treat me differently.

I think this conversation made me realize that I am seen. That someone noticed. That I was worth noticing.

Sometimes you want them to know, but you don't want to have to say anything.