Waiting room prologue

It was the summer of 2002 before my sophomore year in high school when I met him. You know the saying, “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone?” It’s fucking true. Don’t find out the hard way. If I ever had to spawn a child, or speak to a group of graduating seniors, or anything stately like that, that would be what I’d tell them. Leave out that you can make any bra a halter bra with a pony tail holder, leave out that you can make any guy notice you with a confident strut, leave out that you should use white eyeliner to brighten up eyes after a night of crying or smoking pot. All of those things, well all those things are the same. And they don’t mean a goddamn thing in the end. Superficiality. Popularity. Reputation. No one will give a crap a year from now. But the people who will still answer the phone when you call, they mean more than you will ever know when you’re desperate. When you’re scared, lonely, and cold. Don’t let them go, because people who honestly care about your well being only come around once. Trust me. Don’t find out the hard way. He had that soft, platinum hair that you only see in advertisements. He had those piercing blue eyes that you can only picture when the sky looks perfect, when the ocean looks unending. He made you hurt inside he was so beautiful. He was one of those types you could never feel completely adequate around, because insecurities seem to outweigh any thing love can offer. “Want to know why I believe in God?” he gently cupped my chin in his hands. His eyes seemed piercing, blue. “Why?” I asked him with a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “Because he made you just for me.” That bastard. That asshole. He just wanted to take advantage of me. Just wanted to use me. I wanted to believe that with all of my heart. But I couldn’t. The things he said, they were too genuine. Things that still make my heart break. Because before him, my life had been spent restlessly in the waiting room much like all of our lives at some point; wondering why time seems to drag on, wondering when it'll be our turn, wondering what's in store for us. And I think all of us at some point desire companionship; a person to sit...and wait with us. Someone to help us through everything life was going to throw at us. Someone to help us leave this purgatory. A reason to leave this dull, listless life. Someone to help us leave this waiting room.