Playdates

“Do you like him?” they giggled.

“Yes,” I said. I liked to play with my friend after school.

“So is he your boyfriend?”

I told everyone I’d never want a boyfriend.

I screamed it with my whole chest.

They kept insisting that I’d change my mind when I’m older.

I couldn’t understand why they were so obsessed with taking the play out of playdates.

Playing with building blocks was equated to falling in love.

Every time our moms took us to the playground it was supposed to be an evening of romance.

We disappointed everyone when snack time wasn’t a candlelit dinner.

I was even told that my communion dress looked like a wedding gown.

Eventually I took my building blocks and built a wall around myself.

Its purpose was to guard me from anything romantic; I just wanted to play with my friends safely from inside.

We truly were experts at building blocks; he could be an engineer with that type of talent.

I learned to build my wall to be sturdier than the Hoover Dam.

It was a good system for a while; I would lower the drawbridge for anybody that I’d want to spend time with.

But romance was never allowed through.

Affection was never allowed through.

Wanting to be desired by someone was never allowed through.

I sometimes wanted to deconstruct it, but I knew that an “I told you so,” was waiting on the other side.

The wall got so big that I couldn’t tell if anyone was even trying to get through anymore.

I’m sure they haven’t.

And today I’m sure nobody does.

I’m surrounded by people without walls and they seem happy.

But if they really didn’t want me to hide in here then they shouldn’t have asked a toddler about her love life.

How was I supposed to understand what I was building?

It’s becoming increasingly lonely in here.

I wish I could dismantle the wall,

To let someone in

To let someone hold me

To call me beautiful

To ask me about my day and then tell me about theirs

I want to break my wall

To shatter it to pieces

To experience love for the first time

Feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on the boy at the desk next to hers

Like a prepubescent girl innocently and awkwardly slow dancing with a boy an entire arm’s length away at the school dance

Like a teenager wearing her boyfriend’s varsity jacket at the football game on a cold fall night; he asks her to homecoming with poster board and markers after the game.

Like a college student dating the first boy from outside of her hometown, not having to worry about her parent’s prying eyes; they have to wait until after 2am to see each other so the RA doesn't catch them.

But the wall is already built.

I lost the key to unlock the floodgates.

I forgot how to separate the blocks from one another

And I don’t think anyone on Earth is strong enough to break them.