Now Is Not the Time to Panic

by Kevin Wilson

I lived inside of myself way more than I lived inside of this town.

It’s a girl. And you know what they named it?” “What?” he asked. “Frances,” I said. “That’s my grandmother’s name, his mom. I never even knew her; she died when I was little. But still. I mean, that’s my name.” “That’s fucked up,” he admitted. “I thought so,” I said. “My mom really thought so.” “Does he call the baby Frankie?” he asked. “I’m afraid to ask,”

So I kept it inside of me, and that weirdness and sadness vibrated all the time, and maybe I’d just been waiting for someone who wanted me.

How did you prevent your life from turning into something so boring that no one wanted to know about it? How did you make yourself special?