Hide & Seek
"Let's play hide and seek!" was a common request in elementary school, made by eager little boys and girls who were amazed at the idea of finding their fellow comrades in clever hiding spots around the building. But as I near the end of my high school career and as I realize that my childhood days are over, hide and seek no longer means the same thing.
Just as the "cool" kids told their peers to go hide while they actually pretended to seek, I've told my emotions and my thoughts to do the same. I have told them to go bury themselves into the corner of the room and face away from the door, praying that they're not spotted and sucked into the gaping hole residing in the center of my chest. Sometimes if they hide well enough, I can hold myself together long enough to save them, to pretend they're okay and that they're not in danger.
Hide and seek has become a game where I hide the recently open wounds and sloppily stitch them back together in an effort to guard them from prying eyes who will tug at each stitch and ask about its messy and painful history. Just when I think that I've won, the stitches fall apart on their own accord and I can't help but weep as I watch helplessly.