The sun is making me remember the summer time.
I’m with a bunch of friends – some old, some new. I dive off a pier but instead belly-flop to a dramatic fail. I swim back smiling. We’re gonna laugh about my red belly.
“Wow, that was a bad dive, T.” I’m about to laugh along. It takes a second for me to realize they are not laughing. Criticizing my poor form. I make jokes to get them to start laughing with me. They continue to press on – that was a bad dive that was a bad dive that was a bad dive – it’s clear that it doesn’t deserve to cause fun to be had.
It gets me defensive. Hey, it was a bad dive. I know – I was there. I’m uncoordinated. So what. It’s not an audition, girls, I think in my head but am too stunned to vocalize it.
I swim away, away away away, so I’m only with people who are supportive and loving. So I’m only with myself.
Years later, looking back, I know. Some people are always looking to push you down. Just because you’re happy. Just because they are not. Just because how dare I have something they don’t.