Still Leaving

I was at the shops.
On the phone to him.
Because that’s just how it was.
Not because I wanted to.
It just wasn’t really an option not to.
We were just talking.
Nothing big.
Nothing serious.
And I was standing near this kid and his dad.
Just waiting.
Normal.
The kid said something.
I don’t even remember what.
Just something small.
Something a kid would say.
And I did that thing you do.
Like a little laugh.
A quick response.
I think I even did that awkward little puff of air thing.
Like not even a proper laugh.
Just… being polite.
That was it.
And I remember it so clearly because I felt it straight away.
His tone changed.
Like instantly.
And I knew.
Before he even said anything, I knew he wasn’t happy.
And then it started.
Calling me names.
Saying I was flirting.
With them.
And I remember just standing there thinking…
what?
Like actually confused.
Because what had I even done?
But it didn’t stay confusing for long.
Because suddenly I’m having to explain it.
That I was just being polite.
That it was nothing.
That I wasn’t flirting.
And the more I tried to explain it, the worse it got.
Because now it’s not just that.
Now it’s:
I like dads.
I’m looking for dads.
I’m a slut looking for dads.
All of it.
Over nothing.
And I’m standing in a shop, on the phone, trying to defend a two second interaction that I barely even remember.
And that’s the part that sticks.
Not even what he said.
But how quickly something so normal turned into something I had to defend.
Like I wasn’t allowed to just exist around other people.
Like everything I did meant something.
And I kept trying to explain it.
Like if I said it the right way, he’d understand.
But there was nothing to understand.
Because it wasn’t about what happened.
It was about what he decided it meant.
And I still argued it.
Properly.
Trying to prove I wasn’t that person.
Trying to make it make sense.
But it never did.
And after a while, you stop thinking “this is ridiculous” and start thinking “how do I avoid this happening again?”
So you change things.
Without even realising.
How you talk.
How you react.
How you exist around people.
Just to avoid another moment like that.
And if you’re reading this thinking that makes no sense, it didn’t to me either.
But when you’re in it, you don’t question the situation.
You question yourself.
And that’s how it sticks.