I Hope This Doesn't Find You

you sharpen my edges when the world tries to wear them down.

if you’re quiet about the things that hurt you, people are only going to mistake your tolerance for permission. And they’re going to hurt you again and again.

“Why is it me?” The words come out slurred, swollen on my tongue. I wave my hands around with growing frustration. “Why do you . . . Why do you put all your energy into making my life difficult? What did I ever do to you to make you . . . hate me so much? It’s been happening since the day we met each other. With dodgeball. With the spelling quiz in year six. With our history project. With everything. Why do you always single me out?”

“Because,” he says quietly, a curious expression on his face. I’ve never seen him so serious. So sincere. “You’re the only person worth paying attention to.”