I love waking up in the morning and getting ready for work as my mother constantly keeps complaining and my father constantly reminding me that I am a loser.
I love getting out of the house and walking to the bus stop while getting catcalled. I love waiting for the bus which may or may not come. If the bus doesn’t show up, I love walking more just so I can somehow get to work. I love how people stare at me for wearing slightly different clothes than theirs. I love how girls and boys look at me and then gossip amongst themselves. I love ignoring them.
I finally get to work. Work is nice, it makes me forget stuff. I forget about my anxiety for a while, though I know it will always be there. I eat my lunch, have coffee.
And before I realise, it’s time to go home. I get to the bus stop and I either do or do not get the bus. The bus doesn’t come, it never does. And I’m tired from all the walking. I walk some more. I get catcalled again. It’s almost as if it is a daily routine. Like, it has to happen. If it doesn’t, then probably there is something wrong with the world. Like, it is gonna explode or something. Usually, I ignore these guys. Today, though, I stopped walking when I saw them. I glared at one of them for a solid 5 seconds and he just stopped doing whatever the fuck he was doing. Whatever the fuck he does every time a girl passes by. Then I commenced walking again. The guy and his friends, too, commenced their comments and whistles and whatever the fuck it is that they love doing. The exact next second, I had half a mind to turn back, cross the road and have a fight with those guys. I wanted to ask them if they have nothing better to do with their lives. I wanted to smack at least one of the guys. And I wanted to tell one of them (the one I glared at) that my father is a cop (he isn’t, but I wanted to say). There would have only been two possible outcomes. One, the guys would’nt have believed me. They’d have aksed me to call my dad – which I wouldn’t have done. Two, the guys would’ve believed me and shut their filthy mouths – which is very less likely to have happened.
But I didn’t. I didn’t do any of those things.