A Collection of Spectacles

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It’s very easy for me to detach myself emotionally, which is probably a huge flaw. However, when I do find someone I care for, I’m almost paralyzed.

Sometimes, when someone I really like looks me in the eyes, I get so nervous that I physically feel myself getting smaller.

I regress.

I am six years old.

This is the age during which I told my first lie. Well, actually it probably wasn’t the first, but this is the earliest one that I can recall.

As a small project, my father purchased a bunch of white and black rocks. He planned on aligning them perfectly in order to create a rock garden. I remember staring out into the garden and looking closely at each rock. The white ones were pretty. Each appeared as if someone had inserted tiny fragments of glass inside. However, it was the black ones that captivated me. Each was smooth, shiny, polished. If perfection existed, it was to be found in those rocks.

I gathered a few and put them in my pockets. Just as I went to go inside of my house, my father greeted me. He told me about the rock garden, that he had purchased new rocks, and that I was not allowed to touch them, let alone take them for my own because they were rather expensive.

He asked if I had taken any already to which I answered no of course not.

Immediately after, I ran upstairs to my room and emptied my pockets into a small dresser next to my window.

To purge myself of my sin, I waited until my parents left for work one afternoon. I walked out into the garden and put the rocks back in their appropriate places.

There were maybe hundreds if not thousands of rocks out there. I had stolen five. In theory, it was unlikely that I was ever going to get caught. When you’re young, it seems as though everything is taken to the extreme.

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