So, my son went to school today.
As I wrote yesterday, he was not going to school for months and just started to go a few days ago.
He came home, grabbed his phone, went to upstairs to talk to "his friends", and asked if he can hang out with them today.
He is brave, I think.
Those "friends" were the reason for him not going to school.
I am not saying those "friends" were wrong nor my son was too weak.
I knew it was just a little misunderstanding at each side; so some courage can straighten things up.
Still, if I were him, I would have been too scared to call them to ask if he can join them after school.
I couldn't catch every single word, but it seemed like he was rejected softly twice.
He had to hang up the phone to give them some time to discuss if they would take him again.
Just knowing it is happening to him hurts me very very much.
But finally he came downstairs, jumping for joy, saying he is going out with his friends.
He was happy.
But I wasn't.
I was hurt.
Not for him.
But for me.
It brought up the memories of me being miserable and lonely, feeling unwated by my friends.
I am not reay to write about it now, but i think I need to do it sometime soon.