Junior high school is brutal. I was probably considered one of the “cool kids” in junior high, and there are things I probably never experienced. Today was payback. My heart was shattered to a million pieces, and all I could do was sit and watch.
Honors Language Arts. A brilliant student. Unique. Likes to discuss philosophy. Has Buddhist leanings. An assignment is given. Get into groups of two or three for “partner novel writing”. Nobody wants to be her partner. Tears. Red eyes. Tissues. Defiance. Shaking hands and red, puffy eyes overrule the “I’m good” answer. Students watch. Teacher glides around the room.
I sit in my chair, thinking. Judging those callous students. Yelling privately at the teacher, “HELP HER!”. I sit in the back of the room, just like junior high. Unable to console. Not even knowing where to begin to pick up the shattered pieces of two broken hearts.
A Grateful Life 