the aftermath of us ✓

letter sixteen

friday 2 (may)

dear trevor,

granny suggested i went with her to a little dinner for elders being held at the recreation centre. i said yes, obviously. cooking for myself without adult supervision is like leaving a two year old alone with a pair of scissors.

apparently, the theme of the night was disco. there were a few disco balls hanging from the ceiling and i saw spotlights aimed at it even though the room was still pretty much fully lit. i wish i could have seen the little specs of light better but that's okay. there were about ten tables, seating six people at each.

it was a little strange to be the youngest person in the room, but it's not like that isn't a common occurrence for me. you know how i like to hang out with my older cousins more than the ones that are our age. with the age difference at the dinner, though, made it a bit weird.

we sat with one of granny's friends and a few other ladies we didn't know. i didn't have much to say to anybody until around an hour into it. one of the ladies suggested they all go dancing on the small floor the manager cleared earlier on and thus, granny and the ladies left me at the table. except one woman.

she sat quietly for a long time before tapping my shoulder. i was busy watching granny shuffle around with her new friends and looking as happy as ever.

are you alright, dear?

i nodded once and forced a smile. she just shook her head and cocked a fading eyebrow.

that is the worst attempt at faking happiness i've seen in a long time.

i reassured her i was fine. she continued to stare at me before standing up and grabbing my hand in hers. she dragged me to the dance floor. she looked to me expectantly and i shook my head.

even if you're down, you shouldn't purposely keep yourself from doing things you want to do, especially if it means you won't be able to let go of whatever you're holding onto right now. and by the looks of things, you're ready to burst with bad memories of some sort.

i absorbed her words. i don't think she realized how much her just talking to me was. and the wisdom she shared was very much appreciated but i couldn't bring myself to say anything afterward. so we danced.

and let me just say that for an eighty six year old woman, she was a very good dancer.

and she's right. i should just let you go. i shouldn't let you suck the life out of me by having you break my heart every time you walk by with amelia under you arm and bits of happiness stuck in your teeth. i shouldn't build a wall, either. i should just let people in. i shouldn't let everyone else suffer because you made me before. i'm better off. right?

listen, i forgot to tell you one important detail.

the woman hadn't recognized me but that's okay. if she did, she probably would have told you about me. yeah, i met sharon there and she still likes me.

did you not tell her about us? actually, don't. it's better that way.

from,

leslie