“Your classes are so meaningful”
His bright eyes were staring up at me from the floor where
he was seated. His cheeks flushed pink, and I knew he wanted to say more. But I
was already choking back tears as it was, and I couldn’t allow that. I thanked
him. I wanted to say how much it meant to me to hear him say that, I wanted him
to understand that all my bad days were somehow erased just by hearing him utter
those words, but I choked. This is why I
do what I do. I told myself. It’s for these precious moments when you
realize that you made a difference, it’s for that brief flutter of hope that
maybe you made the world a better place for at least that one person.
I told them how irritating it could be when you have so much
to say, and you know you make sense, but for some reason the others just don’t
understand. And for some reason, you don’t give up. You keep trying and they
dismiss you and it hurts. Then the only thing you’re left with is to stoop down
to their level and battle in their pathetic playing fields. You who are a great
warrior capable of slaying great beasts, playing in the wading pool with the young
‘uns. It’s irritating, but you try anyway because if you don’t it means you
lost. You gave up. Not on them, but on yourself. You know you make sense, but they don’t understand. But you try anyway
just in case. You keep trying.
Keep trying.
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