Buried now to blossom later...

There are memories I have so deeply buried that it almost feels like a story I heard about someone else rather than something I lived through. The most random things can act as triggers that turn these vague recollections into visceral detonations. Today it was a morning run. It made me think about junior high and how awful it felt to go to gym class only to learn we'd be running The Mile that day. The whole class would march outside like prisoners on their way to the guillotine. And not once was it ever any less awful than you'd expected it to be.

I was remembering one of these runs in particular. I stopped to walk for just a minute and became aware that the two girls walking behind me were whispering about me. I strained to make out just a few words that might help discern the context of this conversation. But let's face it... I was not the sort of 7th grader who ever got whispered about in regards to how cute he was or anything of that nature. So it didn't take long to figure out I was being made fun of. And then I managed to make out one word very clearly... and my stomach sank. One. Fucking. Word. That's all it took to shatter my entire twelve year old world. You know what it was? You know what she said?