A Picture Changed My Life Forever
What Do They Say?
My heart thudded. Each paniful thud reminded me of what it said, and I hate myself for thinking the same thinking, but that's how love and hate work.
Love, hate, love, hate.
It's drastically different things, that aren't so far apart from each other.
Mrs. Iero came in through the front door and that's when I realized I'd get some advice. You know, from a girl. A woman.
Mrs. Iero reminded me of Mom alot; so I'm treating to her like my mum, minus the bickering.
"Hey, sweetie. Why are you up so late?" she asked me, as she hung her coat on the coat rack.
I stood up and helped her put whatever the heck she was holding on the table. "No reason."
Mrs. Iero smiled. "Thank you, honey. How was the concert?"
"It was good, as always. Nearing the end though, a friggen' commercial cut in." Yep, I don't swear in front of adults I don't know much.
"Mm, I see." She was about to go to the kitchen to do Mom stuff, you know, stir herself some tea, check the calendar, do her schedule, scratch her head.
I pulled her lightly on her sleeve. "Wait, Mrs. Iero, I wanted some advice. You know, some girl advice."
Mrs. Iero looked shocked, but put on a friendly face. "Sure, here. Let's go to the kitchen and figure this out."
I followed her to the kitchen. For some reason, moms like their kitchens alot, just like thirteem-year-oldslike LOVE our rooms.
She made herself some tea and I got myself some water.
I sat on one of the chairs on the table, and Mrs. Iero took the one opposite of me. "This has nothing to do with tampons, does it?"
I stiffled a giggle. "No, Mrs. Iero."
"Oh, don't call me that. Call me Aunt Linda. We are related after all, one way or another." She took a sip of her tea.
I smiled. I began to swing my legs under the table. "Um, I, kinda, uh.... IfellinlovewithGerard." Yup, I said it quickly as if it were one word. But let's translate that: I. Fell. In. Love. With. Gerard.
Why is that so hard to admit?
"Ah, I see. Now, what's so wrong with that?" She rested her head on her hand, as if she really was fascinated.
Now, what the heck was fascinating with a girl's first love? Mom always asked me about it.
"Mrs--- I mean, Aunt Linda, he's 17 years older than me. Chances are, he doesn't love me back." I bit back tears of heartache.
"Did you tell Frank about this?" she asked.
I nodded.
"What did he tell you?"
"To follow what my heart says."
"I'm telling you: he watches Oprah. That's where he got that."
I laughed slightly.
She continued, "But he's---rather, Oprah's----right. Are you doubting to follow your heart? Because when I was young, I liked this guy too. I felt in my heart to tell him that I liked him, but my mind told me something else. What's your mind telling you?"
I bit my lip. "It tells me the same thing my heart does."
"And what do they say?"
"To stop loving him."
Love, hate, love, hate.
It's drastically different things, that aren't so far apart from each other.
Mrs. Iero came in through the front door and that's when I realized I'd get some advice. You know, from a girl. A woman.
Mrs. Iero reminded me of Mom alot; so I'm treating to her like my mum, minus the bickering.
"Hey, sweetie. Why are you up so late?" she asked me, as she hung her coat on the coat rack.
I stood up and helped her put whatever the heck she was holding on the table. "No reason."
Mrs. Iero smiled. "Thank you, honey. How was the concert?"
"It was good, as always. Nearing the end though, a friggen' commercial cut in." Yep, I don't swear in front of adults I don't know much.
"Mm, I see." She was about to go to the kitchen to do Mom stuff, you know, stir herself some tea, check the calendar, do her schedule, scratch her head.
I pulled her lightly on her sleeve. "Wait, Mrs. Iero, I wanted some advice. You know, some girl advice."
Mrs. Iero looked shocked, but put on a friendly face. "Sure, here. Let's go to the kitchen and figure this out."
I followed her to the kitchen. For some reason, moms like their kitchens alot, just like thirteem-year-oldslike LOVE our rooms.
She made herself some tea and I got myself some water.
I sat on one of the chairs on the table, and Mrs. Iero took the one opposite of me. "This has nothing to do with tampons, does it?"
I stiffled a giggle. "No, Mrs. Iero."
"Oh, don't call me that. Call me Aunt Linda. We are related after all, one way or another." She took a sip of her tea.
I smiled. I began to swing my legs under the table. "Um, I, kinda, uh.... IfellinlovewithGerard." Yup, I said it quickly as if it were one word. But let's translate that: I. Fell. In. Love. With. Gerard.
Why is that so hard to admit?
"Ah, I see. Now, what's so wrong with that?" She rested her head on her hand, as if she really was fascinated.
Now, what the heck was fascinating with a girl's first love? Mom always asked me about it.
"Mrs--- I mean, Aunt Linda, he's 17 years older than me. Chances are, he doesn't love me back." I bit back tears of heartache.
"Did you tell Frank about this?" she asked.
I nodded.
"What did he tell you?"
"To follow what my heart says."
"I'm telling you: he watches Oprah. That's where he got that."
I laughed slightly.
She continued, "But he's---rather, Oprah's----right. Are you doubting to follow your heart? Because when I was young, I liked this guy too. I felt in my heart to tell him that I liked him, but my mind told me something else. What's your mind telling you?"
I bit my lip. "It tells me the same thing my heart does."
"And what do they say?"
"To stop loving him."