Must’ve Been Tired

Yeah, must’ve been.

It was still light out when I went to bed, and after 8 when I got up. Aislyn is still sleeping.

Desmond’s officially a fourth grader. He came up to me last night in tears, needing a hug. I don’t know what was wrong, exactly. When he’s upset I ask him, but I don’t press if he doesn’t want to tell me, unless I’m really concerned that it’s something dangerous or something. I just offer my support.

I do know he has a hard time with transitions. I know his best friend is moving to Hawaii. My heart hurts for both those kids already. I’m sitting here, wiping tears from my eyes, now.

But I’m overjoyed that Desmond has friends, that he’s well-respected by his peers. I suspect Aislyn won’t have any problems in that department, either. I think she’s a social butterfly. I couldn’t be happier about this. It is everything I wanted for these kids. Everything I wanted for myself but never really had.

I guess when it comes right down to it, I don’t care about popularity or social status as long as they are both happy. They’re probably nice benefits to have and coast through school with, but not necessary.

When I was a young kid I used to daydream about being in the popular clique, dressing like them, dating those boys. I used to try to emulate their style, but I failed miserably at it. In reality, I was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum; I really was.

But, in retrospect, I don’t know why I tried so hard to make them accept me. Even back then, I knew I didn’t like them. I knew they even hated each other within their little group.

I think it was the boys. The boys I liked only seemed to date from the same small pool of popular girls. And while I was pretty, I was worlds away from popular, or even what my peers would describe as “normal,” because I was so, so introverted.

Occasionally, and especially when my acne cleared, one or two of those boys would show interest in me, but be shamed by their friends. And it just makes me wonder: what kind of assholes had I invested all of this energy into? I wonder how many of them are still that way and who’s actually grown up.

I feel like I have written this post before, at least once. I’m sorry, readers!

In any case, Aislyn is up now, and I’ve got to get her breakfast going. Talk later.

Me in the first row, far right in sixth grade.

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