I Mean, At First, It Was Kind

I'm Sorry," I Heard Him Say Again. Then, Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, I Saw A Sudden Blur Of Movement As He Slid Out Of His Seat, Left Some Bills For The Breakfast He Wouldn't Eat, And Walked Away. And As He Did, I Thought Again Of Those Mornings In The Hallway At School, Way Back In Ninth Grade. Everything Had Started In Such Sharp Detail, Each Aspect Pronounced And Clear. Obviously, Endings Were Different. Harder To See, Full Of Shapes That Could Be One Thing Or Another, With All The Things That You Were Once So Sure Of Suddenly Not Familiar, If They Were Even Recognizable At All.

Welcome To Adulthood," She Said. "it Sucks As Much As High School.

I'm Always Hopeful. I Feel Like I'm At The Prom Sitting Against The Wall Waiting For Someone To Ask Me To Dance.

I Hated High School. I Was Not The Greatest Student, Participated In No Activities, And Spent Most Of My Time Hanging Out In My Parking Lot.

I Was Worn Out, Broken: He Had Taken Almost Everything. But He'd Been All I'd Had, All This Time. And When The Police Led Him Away, I Pulled Out Of The Hands Of All These Loved One, Sobbing, Screaming, Everything Hurting, To Try And Make Him Stay.