I was, I want to say, 6 years old when this happened. It was a hot March day, and I wanted to play a game with a girl I knew and some other kids too. They were playing on a blue play structure.
She told me, “Not to be mean, but me and the other kids are going to hang out,” she said with a shout.
“It's okay I don’t mind,” I said as I started picking up the signs she doesn't want to hang out with me. “No really, I don’t want you to feel left out,” she blurted.
And I started to doubt my place on that playground. And I looked around without making a sound and saw happy kids with their friends, and I said under my breath, I want that.
And they watched as my tears threatened to drop from my eyes. As I slowly walked to the edge of the freshly watered green grass and cried.
And as I sat there no one, not even a teacher came up to me, no one asked me why I was crying salty blue tears.
All I wanted was someone to say is,
“Shyla are you okay?”
but instead I felt invisible that hot March day.

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