I have been having a lot of problems with my feet lately. We’re not going to get into it right now, but basically standing and walking have become extremely difficult at times and it’s rather unfortunate.

The class it is most annoying in is choir because we are expected to stand most, if not all, of the time, and my choir director is a real stickler. Despite that, I think they’ve realized I really can’t stand, especially after I came with a doctors note because I couldn’t walk to class.

The other day, we were recording and, when we record, we really don’t sit the entire time. There aren’t even chairs for us to do so. As I limped into the room, I worried and wondered over what I was going to do. I could stand the entire time but that meant I would, without a doubt, be in an extreme amount of pain later. I didn’t know what to do.

When I found my spot in the midst of everyone, the boy beside me had gotten a chair for me. No one had told him to. He had seen me come in and had gotten a chair.

The next day I came into choir, everyone was doing back rubs as we always do at the beginning of a rehearsal. Not able to stand and join in the line, I found my seat. The same boy who had gotten me a chair saw as I sat down and immediately broke from the line and came to sit behind me and massage my shoulders.

Tears welled in my eyes as I felt his presence behind me. I cannot express what it means to me that he showed me such kindness when there was no need.

That’s the thing: there was no need for him to do these things because I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I am extremely independent and I don’t need anyone to care for me. I can make it just fine on my own. I’m actually kind of good at it.

But he never asked if he could care for me. He just…did it.

You see, most of the time, I don’t let people care for me. Even when they try or they want to, I push them away. Maybe not in an obvious way or in a mean way, I just take care of myself and I don’t show that I need to be taken care of. Because I don’t.

But do I?

If I don’t need to be cared for, why do I tear up every time he goes out of his way to care for me in the sweet, simple ways he does?

I don’t know. I don’t know how to reconcile the fact that I don’t need people and yet I do. I don’t need to be cared for and yet I long for it, and yet I appreciate it more than I could possibly say. I just don’t know.

I do know I adore those that are sweet to me and I am incredibly grateful to them.



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