Little Stories from Big Hearts

Signs

There are signs everywhere telling people how they should treat each other.
I read them while I try to avoid looking at other people, so they don't have to look at me.
I'm sweating and I gasp for air. My breath was taken away a long time ago and I suddenly ask myself what I'm doing there.
I just ignore the question and keep going.
I notice my sweat again, and that there's people around me that are sweating too, but my sweat is special, it is cursed with judgement coming from myself and also the imaginary judgement I've come to think other people give me. I ask myself once again what I'm doing there.
I go downstairs, ready to do what the men do, but they want me in a room full of women, because apparently, I am one.
I know the real reasons why I don't want to go in, and I certainly know why they want me there.
But I can't.
Memories burst into my mind every time I think about going into that room to dance for half an hour.
Feeling the paranoia kick in, and even though I always was in the back, I felt all the eye of the people that had their backs turned back at me, judging me as hard as I judge myself.
I fear that fear.
All the people that tell me to do it, to go in, I know they do it for my own good, but I imagine them laughing and waiting for the right moment to peek inside the room and watch me.
So I just say no. That I won't go in, and my will is much stronger now, because I don't go in. Not like 5 years ago. The pressure made me go.
As a result, I do what I like: heavy stuff.
Not heavy to give me muscle, but heavy enough to make me feel like a tough little man. And I love it.
But they keep on pushing me towards the door.
And they will give up on me.
And won't help me at all.
And I'm afraid.