Her name is Katie
and I know it’s just a dull coincidence
considering
it’s such a common name.
Sigh…
She’s gorgeous and quiet; humble and smart. Sometimes, I look after her while she’s not paying attention. I steal appreciative glances and wonder what it’s like to be her.
She’s not like…
No, she’s not like that.
She’s not, and it’s not that I want to be her
even temporarily.
No, I just look after her wondering sometimes
who she is
what it’s like.
She invited me to her family’s Christmas dinner
and I didn’t know how to turn her down.
I’m not Christian.
I don’t eat ham…or turkey.
Social gatherings make me uncomfortable.
She invited me, because I’m not going home.
They think I don’t like my family, and that’s just not true.
Hell, they think I’m secretly a millionaire.
“You just don’t like people very much, do you?”
Well…
No.
No, I suppose I don’t but…
it’s not usually an active disliking.
Sometimes it is.
Confrontations in parking lots.
Unflushed toilets.
Insipid remarks jotted with unforgiving pen in the pages of old, used books.
I don’t dislike Katie.
I certainly don’t dislike my family.
I don’t know how to turn her down…because I don’t dislike her.
It’s actually quite the opposite.
Katie…
