the effects of being an unloved kid

instinctively,

i never wave or say hello first.

when i was younger,

i never invited friends over or

asked for playdates,

afraid that everyone would decline

and say no, sorry, i’m busy that day

and the worst is the artificial taste of each apology.

so i think i wait to be greeted for the same reason,

to prevent the embarrassment of not being recognized

of the hey! we know each other from…?

or even worse, a complete avoidance. pure silence.

it’s my day off from work.

i walk along the water, breathe in the scent of salt

and garbage and leftover beer from last night,

weed from the trucks passing by.

i’m wearing a yellow sundress, carrying a book

and every once in a while a man shouts out his window

beeps his horn

leers at me until i run out of places to look away.

i think it’s weird that boys my age don’t notice me

but i’m a hit among the forty and over club.