[3] Why I can’t say No

Because No is dangerous.

Because you want me to say Yes.

And I’m not sure what happens

if I don’t say what you want me to say.

I can’t believe you’d be okay with it.

I know you’ll be disappointed.

You might even be angry.

Or hate me.

Or reject me right there and then.

And it won’t matter if you tell me

No would be perfectly fine.

I’d still worry about punishment later.

Because when I was a kid

punishment always came later.

You disappointed people at your peril.

And I hated peril.

I hated feeling nervous and scared,

and like I lived on thin ice that could

easily give way.

So I learned Yes early.

So many Yesses since then I can’t count them.

But I’m sick and tired of Yesses.

So sick and tired I don’t even care

if the ice starts to crack,

and I fall into the cold water

of your disapproval.

Because I’m thinking,

fuck it,

time to learn how to swim.