By the time
I make it
to Kjrsten,
my shoulder is
ticking away,
and my chronic cough
has aligned itself
with the timing
of my shoulder.
This is my curse;
popularity,
even if it's among
a group of
high school guidance counselors,
means lots of pretending
you're fine
so you can shower everyone
in your gleeful presence
that they adore.
I know
they just feel bad
because I was hospitalized
again,
and they all want
to welcome me back.
I just wish
that they'd save
their energy
and treat me like
they normally do,
and as as I walk
past.
But I guess
I can't be angry.
If one of my students
could die at
any moment,
I'd hover, too.
The first thing
Kjrsten does
is not welcome
me back
or offer me candy.
She laughs at my
synchronized symptoms
from different
disorders
and tells me I
have officially gained
enough problems
to be a comedian.
"What am I even doing
with all these problems?"
I ask her.
"I should start
auctioning them off.
How can I hog them
all to myself
when there are so many
people in the world
whose worst problem
is that they hit post
on an ugly selfie
when they meant to push
delete?"
She reminds me that
everyone has their problems;
just that they're not all
as visible
as mine.
Because collapsing
in the middle of
fourth period
is kind of
noticeable.
YOU ARE READING
Remember; You Have the Universe
TienerfictieCover by kyromaniak Everyone wants to be different. I just want to be like everybody else. ---- Seventeen-year-old chronically ill Emma has traded dreams of flying into space for, "Support Therapy," aka, "The Dying Kids Group," and Student Council...
