The first sounds of testosterone like yelling and immature laughter climb into my ears, reminding me of my bad day. Continuing on like a fish against the current, I am run into. As I make it to that fun filled patio I place my hands in their pockets and lower my head. Don't feel like making eye contact with the rest of the world today. Please, no small talk either.
Acquaintances always seem to ask the wrong questions.
Moving on with momentum on my side I see a pack of boys trapped somewhere in between the second and third stages of puberty, finding laughter in a young girls' sign of a cold day. At this point I've decided that I am sick of this place, along with the thoughts that make me think this way. I pick my head up from its somber state and see someone I would call familiar. Finally a person who can tell that I wasn't having a typical rainbow day. See, a friend can tell how full or empty your cup is on any particular day, before you are close enough to waste words.