To The Boy In History

October 23rd

October 23rd

Dear boy with the thinning face,

Last night I listened to you cry on the phone. All of the tests that the hospital ran on your mother finally came and you couldn't have been more devastated by the results. Breast cancer. And a cancer that is far enough along that she might not make it through it. I've never heard a more heartbreaking sound than the one of your own heart shattering right in front of me and there's nothing I could do to subdue the pain. There's nothing anyone can do for that kind of news. Not a painkiller, Tylenol, ibuprofen, or morphine could ever make you forget the feeling that is eating away from your heart and I'm so sorry that you're going through it alone.

That night of our two a.m. phone conversation, the one before things went south, I was astounded to find out that your father up and left your mother when you were only four. Every single story I've ever heard about her has been about her kindness and compassion, the same kindness and compassion that's rubbed off on you. How could someone do that to such a sweet woman? How could you leave your own kid behind? And now you truly are alone. Being the strong backbone that your mother needs while she fights against her own body, fights to become the woman she was months earlier. I want to be there for you, but I don't think it's my place.

In school, your cheekbones have become more prominent, and sometimes people stare. I've noticed that you sit alone now, tucked away in this little nook of the library where people can't see the tear tracks on your cheeks. But how would people notice when your back is always turned to them? You're blocking everyone out and they don't want to pressure you. It makes me worried.

The girl that's listened to your breaking heart.