As I sit here staring at the yellow stained floor, smelling the atrocious food being served, and tapping both fingers and feet with disgust. I hear them snickering at the sound of my name, at the jokes that describe the so called “me”. I wonder what I did to deserve this. This blue plastic chair has become my best friend, the one I can rely on to always have my back. In this corner alone, is where some may say I live. This same spot is my “safe spot”.
I got so tired of hiding all my emotions, because the lack of honesty I’ve noticed from others. Fake happiness just wasn’t cutting it anymore, the girl they used to know still sits there ignored and trapped, unnoticed. Yet physically she’s freer now by herself, but no not ignored, those kids two tables away notice everything I do, I amuse them. This blue plastic chair has shown people another side of me, the side only few people saw before and liked.
But those people wouldn’t leave with me, they wouldn’t be free. So for that, now they laugh at me. I’m on a higher level than them, not for my weight, not how I dress, not who my parents are and not for whom I date. It’s for the amount of courage it takes to sit here. Day by day, all alone truly soaking in what they say to me. I could change everything about me but there’s always something wrong to these people. It’s like they need someone to ridicule, almost as if they leech on to one person and suck the life out of them until all happiness is gone.
This blue plastic chair will be the chair that I someday will leave. But not to join them, only to give them something to judge me on. No tears will be shed for them, no looks, nor remarks, not anything more than they deserve until the day comes that I can be happy again.
This blue plastic chair will always represent the courage that I haven’t found yet. I still cover my emotions with energy and laughter. I still tolerate the crude things said to me, and I’m still trapped, ignored, and unknown at that table, two tables away from the real me.