February 1, 2015

This summer,

I got a lot of rides

From a boy named Matt.

By a lot of rides,

I mean that at 6:05

Every gosh dang morning,

I heard him coming down the street.

Yes,

I heard him.

He would blast ACDC

At 6:05.

And even with his windows SHUT,

I still heard Back in Black

Blaring blocks away.

He taught me a lot.

Like how 80s rock

Really is the best way to start off your morning,

That you can be good

(and I mean REALLY good)

At something,

Without getting a big head.

I learned how to (theoretically)

Drive in inclement weather,

that stop signs

Are only optional,

Speed limits

Are just guidelines,

And that if you drive in D1,

The car makes a really cool sound.

I learned that there are still people in this world

Who will get to know you,

Who will befriend you,

Without asking for anything but friendship in return.

I learned that there are teens

Who still obey their mothers’

Requests

Down to the last syllable.

I learned that he liked to build stuff.

And that during the school year,

He practically lived in the shop class,

That his teacher said he might as well

Bring a blanket

And a pillow.

I learned that he is insecure,

And that he gets bullied,

Not because he told me,

But from what I saw.

I learned that he is almost always

The bigger person,

And is still kind

To those who are so cruel

To him,

both in front of him,

And behind his back.

My faith in the future of Earth

Was restored this summer,

Because Matt taught me

That not all humans

Are monsters,

That there are still some

Kind souls left.

He may never hear this,

But I want to thank him,

Because his strength

Encouraged me

In ways that I can never fully say,

But he is one of the reasons

That February 1, 2015,

I am six months clean of self-harm today.