Hello, Old Friend - iii

Pride, Pt. 3

“Remember when you ain’t fuck with me like that?” Pride asked with a slight tone of nostalgia.

After the expression of surprise leaves my face, I roll my eyes.

“Growing up was weird. It seemed like a bad thing to feel proud… have pride about things I did or about myself. Talking about them made other people feel bad or get angry.” I said.

Feeling emotions starting to build, I continue

“When it seems you’re expected to know everything, it’s not easy to ask questions. People expect you to know everything. It’s frustrating explaining why I don’t know something, so it’s often easier for me to try and figure it out on my own.” I finish.

“Just like I taught you. I’m always the first to tell you good job and quit doubting yourself” Pride beamed.

“Then why’d you stall me out when it came time for me to ask a question?” I almost yell.

“That wasn’t me, bro.” Pride said.

“It was! You said I could do it, then froze me!” I was surprised Pride would lie so easily.

Inside I was in tangles. Desperate to know why I couldn’t just ask a question. Questions are harmless. It’s the answers that are usually the doozies. I begin to sense a quickening of my pulse that is easily outpaced by the swarming thoughts in my mind. If I wasn’t too proud to ask a question, then what was the problem. If questions were harmless, then what was the problem? If asking a question would be what brought swift relief to my mind and body, then what was I af-

Everything stops as I hear a familiar voice finish the question, “afraid of?”