It’s funny how things just come and seem to never leave

Or never spread that far just existing as an awkward mole on your shoulder or a very uncomfortable mole in your armpit. 

At first it was tiny, had no relevance, bearable even looked like a blackhead and  you probably tried to take it out but it hurt a little bit too much for a tiny pimple so you thought: “I should just leave it there maybe it isn’t ripe and I should probably stop touching my acne anyways.”  

You wash your hands and face in the sink afterwards and carry on with your day. 

Fast forward three weeks later, 

It’s Friday and  “oh my God! thank God it’s Friday!” They asked you out, you know? the tall dark and funny guy who was sitting behind you in class or the cute girl in the akatuski themed hoodie who was working on her own comic strip.  

You rush home to get ready but it’s starting to hurt a little when you walk or move. that blackhead looks like a mole now and all though “tall dark and funny” noticed and told you he didn’t mind spots here and there. It’s starting to look hideous to you as you stand in your evening dress. And even if “akatuski hoodie” didn’t mind your limp you doubt you’ll be able to walk around together at the fair not to mention how much harder it would be to wear those cool Nikes you’ve wanted to get for a while. 

So you call and you tell them “hey something went wrong, I don’t think I can make it I don’t feel so good I’m sorry.” 

“Oh no it’s fine” they say “maybe some other time.”

It’s been two weeks, and you decided to spend time with them even though you lean on your left leg when standing now or that mole now seems to sit like a big button next to your nose. 

They see how uncomfortable it makes you and suggest “hey you should get that checked out. It doesn’t seem to make you very happy?” 

Sadly you respond “oh no it’s fine it doesn’t bother me that much.” But you know it does. You choose to live with it and you don’t ever seem to have time to see a doctor or more accurately make time. 

You’re scared although it’s probably just a little something they’d take off in minutes.  You’ve also heard about a few cases when it was something worse. 

It’s starting to look stupid to them that you’ve refused to part with the figurative “thorn in your side” but they’re starting to love you beyond that giant button on your face or the fact that she jokes about being the perfect height as a human walking stick when you’ve been on your feet for too long. 

So obviously they care and they know how many things you don't want to do anymore or chances you don't want to take because a lot of people are starting to stare and ask questions. And as much as we would prefer to hide it, body image does bother us a lot and the pain from what started as a blackhead or a tiny dot now seems to make you love wearing a mask or to stop playing basketball with your best friends from the block once a week. 

A month later they say they have a surprise for you, you should come with them. You’re confused and even though you know they’re probably trying to cheer you up you don’t want people staring at you. 

You ask where you’re going often and they say “don’t worry we’re almost there.” Before you know it you’re in a small clinic sitting in the waiting room, they smile at you nervously every time you look at them. You know they’re doing the right thing by bringing you here and you’re not actually mad at them for caring. Your more concerned about why you didn’t care enough about yourself to come here. 

The nurse walks in and tells you “the doctor will see you now” and they give your hand a gentle squeeze you know this shouldn’t be a big deal to others but they take it as seriously as they take you and walk into the examination room with you. The doctor looks at it and tells: “You came just in time for me to take this off with ease.” and you let her do it immediately. The nurse patches you up right after and he comes to get you with the large bandage on your face or she jokes about how you replaced her with a real wheelchair. 

And taking things a few weeks and appointments into the next month, you can walk just fine now and you can score comfortably from behind the three point line. Now you want to wear those pretty dresses you didn’t want to look at for so long. 

And as you sit next to that food truck with “the boys” or go to the third art exhibit with him dressed in that cute dress you start to realize how a little easier things were when you weren’t limping or trying to hide your face and how dumb you must have been for waiting so long to take that thing off. But even though it was a little bit stupid avoiding the benign tumor growing on your skin and at some point was even dumber pretending to live with it, now you can breathe easier, talk to more people and have more fun with the people who took stupid things that you went through and took them as seriously as you always wanted anyone to take you.