It was all or nothing, and I wanted nothing to do with you.

 

It was only instinct that I fear you with, with your fabricated smile and masked appearnace.

While others laughed in a party game, I wept in a ball pit.

While they jumped for a high five, I dove for cover.

Your facade may have woked on them, but I was convinced that you were all out to get me.

 

So, I ran.

I avoided dinners, birthday parties, theme parks.

Any event that may have given you an opportunity to see me was out of the question.

I lived this way for years, fearing your filthy gloves and oversized heads.

I would never give you the chance to get to me.

 

Although I ran, you eventually caught up to me where I though I'd be safe.

A family cruise is exciting enough, but my blood ran cold when I heard you were onboard.

Despite my best efforts, we finally met face to face  as I was heading to dinner.

It was just my brother, me, a variety of parade performers, and you.

I did not know how I was supposed to stay strong when confronted with a crowded elevator

and an oversized Shrek character.

 

I had two choices: break down into tears and sneak out at the next possible stop,

or stand my ground.

Not give you the satisfaction of seeing that I was petrified inside, 

but instead pretend to be just another adoring child.

So, I stood.

 

Three floors, five handshakes, and one laugh later, I had finally seen the light.

All this time, you were never following me to do harm.

You had always been there just to try and make me smile.

For years I had run away from you, and I had finally swept aside the fear to see that

you were always there to make me happy.

It then became a race to make up for lost time, and truly connect with you

the way you had been trying for years.

 

It was all or nothing, and now I wanted nothing more than to thank you all.