Sometimes
I really just feel like
screaming
"fuck!"
But I'll settle for
mumbling it sometimes.
Because things sometimes suck,
and they are all your own fault.
Like the lovely three-inch
blackened space on the
front bumper of my father's
brand new car.
I scraped the paint right off.
And felt dumb
and was pissed at myself,
and cried and worried,
because it's what I do.
Because it bothered me all day.
And then it came to the point of
trying not to cry, because you're dumb.
Trying not to totally lose it,
because there are three men standing around car
and it's embarrassing, because they're awkward.
And you're awkward, and can't talk because your
voice wavers. And you can't really look at anyone
because yes, your eyes are tearing up fast.
It was mostly me just worrying,
my father was not really so mad.
It's just that the ugly scratch
will be a reminder of my stupidity
and failure until it gets fixed.
Which could be a long time.
So it will stare at me and taunt me
and say "Oh look! You're not good
enough to drive a car!"
Because I'm a bad driver.
It was so nerve-wracking.
And as I was frantically rubbing at
the scuff marks in the middle of a
nearly empty parking lot
all I could think was
"I'm so stupid. He'll kill me. The paint
came off".
And now it makes me feel bad,
the whole car, and also
dragging you into this situation,
you're so nice.
But I know you aren't good
with highly-emotional situations.
We even discussed just earlier this week
how you aren't a 'touchy-feely' type.
Crying people weird you out and
make you uncomfortable.
Sorry.
Sorry I cannot better handle myself.
Thank you, though
for being there.
And I cannot count the times you said
"It's going to be ok", or
"Are you ok?"
Because despite your sudden awkwardness,
you handled it well.
As I was quickly turning into a
hysterical mess.
That fucking scratch.
Made a dent in me.
But then I ate a
really big omelet
and went grocery shopping
and felt a hell of a lot better
about the whole ordeal.
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