Are you okay?

When I was in high school, I didn’t understand why the graduated seniors came back to visit. I always thought that I’d never want to visit that hell hole ever again once I got out. But, now I understand. It’s not the place, it’s the people. I miss everyone. I miss my best friend and my “child”. No, he’s not my actual child, he’s only two years younger than me, but, I’ve known him since he was in sixth grade and I’m like a mom to him. I miss everyone that I was in band with, hell I even miss my band directors. Wow, never thought I’d say that.

During high school, I was like my band directors’ personal punching bag. No literally, but, I’d get yelled at all the time, for things that I wasn’t doing. But, they knew that I could handle it.  See, my band directors were more like my second set of gay parents. Sure they were brothers but that’s not the point. They cared about me. Although they yelled at me they knew when I had enough, or when I was sad, angry, happy, or just done with the day. The first moment that made me realize this was when I had volunteered to help at one of the events my band was hosting and one of the adults running it was being me to me and would yell at me My band director could tell that I was past the breaking point. He asked me if I was ok. This never happens. My band director is emotionless all the time, and if you’ve ever met him then you would know that he never does things like this. He could tell that I was hurt and on the verge of tears. Just that simple question made everything better. I instantly knew that he actually cared. It’s weird to say this but I love him. No, not in the attracted to kind of way. The I love you like a family member way. If something happened to him then I would probably break. Although he was an ass to me a lot of the time, the times that he cared made me love him like a dad. It all started with that one question. That small question. Are you okay?

I’ve been asked this question a million times. What made this time different is that I could tell that it was sincere. He cared about me, more than some of the people I’m close with in my life. Normally when I’m asked this questions it’s just a courtesy question. You know, when you see that something is different and it would be weird not to ask. When you ask the question not wanting a long response that the question really calls for. Every time this happens it’s always the same response and I bet you could guess it because we all have said it. I’m fine. But, does it mean that you’re fine. No! It never does. Why do we do this? I know the answer for why I don’t. It’s different for every person. For me, you ask? Well, I don’t like sharing my emotions, I find it more painful to express how I’m feeling and relive the antagonizing emotions I felt. I find it easier to say, “Yeah, I’m fine” than to pour my heart out about what is really wrong, about why I’m not actually ok. Why is it so hard to share this information with people? Am I the only one? Surely there has to be someone like me. Someone that just wants to suffer in silence, right?

 

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