Note: there is some strong language in this. it's not too bad. it's not too excessive, either. one word in here twice, i think. and if you're wondering, yes, the colors mean something. and yes, im genuinely asking a question to you, the reader. and to the person this is about. but i pray he never reads or finds this. anyway, enjoy.

 

Am I selfish for wanting another hug? 

I handed you the letter, you began to read it right in front of two other teahcers. "No no no, read it later." I rushed out. The bell had rang, I had to get to class. I left your room and went to my study hall. Anxiety flairing. I didn't know what to do, so I slept. Were you reading it right now? Did you put it off, like I said you would? Do you even really care? Study hall bell rang. Your office is right outside my math class. You normally stand out there and talk to my friends and I. Your office door was closed. I knew you were in there, though. I saw your shoes through the gap between the floor and the wooden door. I was pretending to be happy with my friends, but I told ❌❌❌. "I finally gave him the letter." She was happy. "Really?! I'm gonna get him right now!" Fuck. "No, please don't!" She was already walking away. There were two minutes left to be in class, but I ran into my class anyway. But something made me come back out. I knew you were standing in the doorway. Watching me. Hoping I'd turn around and then you could pull me out of class. But I ignored you. And you knew it. But can you blame me? 20 seconds left to get to class. I looked at you, for a breif second, we made eye contact. And your eyes, normally bright blue, were darker and the skin around them was red and puffy. You cried over me. I ran into class. Shaking. Trying not to cry. Trying not to scream. I was bouncing my leg and messing with my sleeve. 5 minutes into class, I saw your shoes come up to the door. I saw your blue shirt through the window. All feeling left my body. F u c k. I was terrified. My math teacher opened the door. "Oh, ❌❌❌, hi." "Yeah, hi, uh, I need..." Your eyes scanned the room, you looked angry, you sounded cold. Were you going to yell at me like my parents would? Your eyes landed on me. Your expression and voice softened. You pointed at me, motioned for me to come to you. "You. I need you." I stood up, all eyes were on me. But you were there so I wasn't as shaky and scared. I gave you a nervous smile. I walked out the door, and you walked into your office. I followed you. I was standing there, back to the doorway. "You're gonna need to close the door." Confused, I turned around to shut it. I faced you again. You took a step forward. Your arms wrapped around my shoulders and you pulled me to your chest. I hugged you back. You held onto me like I was slipping away right there. Like it was the last time you would ever see me. And I hugged you back just as hard. I gripped onto your shirt like a child grabbing their blanket after a nightmare. I felt you breathing, trying to soothe me. I was almost crying. It was perfect, I felt needed. It was perfect, except I couldn't breathe. Your silk shirt kept covering my nose and I tried to turn my head. "No. You're not leaving yet." You said, I could hear your smile. "I wasn't planning on it." You held me tighter, as if that was possible. I could hear your heart beat, it was slow and calming. It reminded me of when my father used to hold me after a nightmare. And that's what I wrote about, in your letter. How my life was a nightmare. "I could get into so much trouble for this." You said, but you didn't let go. I squeezed you tighter. "I don't care." A few seconds later, we broke apart. Who knew that almost all of my doubts and fears could be cured by being held by someone who loves me for 2 minutes? Then we talked. For an hour. And you got in trouble for it, I'm sure. Because we were only supposed to talk for 5 minutes. But that day, you saved me. I promised you and the counselor that I didn't have a plan. But truth is, if you didn't respond, if you ignored me like I thought you would, I would have left forever that night. But you saved me. 

Am I selfish for wanting another hug?

That was a little over 2 weeks ago. I go into your office every morning now. And your class during my study halls. I'm pretty sure I'm your favorite student. We talk about everything in the mornings. You show me songs to listen to. Bands to love. My favorite was Dig by Incubus. Now it's my favorite song of all time. Three days ago you met my mother after school. You were wearing purple that day. You were very nervous although you'd never say it. You had to change who you are so she wouldn't prevent us from talking. She still didn't like you. But she likes you enough for her to allow me to stick around you. My grade went from a D to a B that day. Before she showed up, we talked a lot. Walked around. Apparently, I act like an adult. Because although I'm only a year older than your son, you talk to me completly different. At least it seems like you do. You're still a father figure, though. When my mom finally got there, you told me to sit outside and to give you 5 minutes. It was 30 minutes. I'm not mad, though, honestly. But. Apparently you told her what happened that day, from your point of view. You were leaving school. You got in your car and lit a cigarette. A Marlboro red, to be exact. With a bright red bic lighter. And you started to read my letter at the stoplight two blocks away. You made it 4 lines, and then made an illegal U-turn back to the school. Back to me. You didn't put it off. You came back ASAP and cried in your office over me. I've made you cry three times. 

Am I selfish for wanting another hug?

Two days ago, I was in your office. I don't remember what exactly we were talking about, but I said it. "You will never understand how much you've helped me, ❌❌❌." The whole mood changed. It went from light and jokey to thick and heavy. But not a bad "thick and heavy." A loving thick and heavy. "Well, I'm glad that you came to me. I'm glad and genuinley honored that you trust me enough to vent to me. It means a lot, ❌❌❌." I shouldn't say this, but I love you. That's what I wanted to say. But I didn't. I will soon, though. Because you deserve to know how much you mean to me. You deserve to know how much I care about you. Like I've said here before, you're like a father to me. 

 

 

Am I selfish for needing another hug?