Thank You, Stegosaurus

when I was four, I knew you for the first time

I could see you so clearly

the Stegosaurus

your name was among the first I ever knew

out of all of the dinosaurs

and I instantly loved you

in my mind, you were kind and caring

and you loved to talk to me

you weren’t scary like the Tyrannosaurus

and I liked that about you

I wondered to myself

if any T-rex ever made fun of you

for being so peaceful and gentle

the way the boys in my class

who loved the mean Tyrannosaurus

made fun of me

and it made me feel connected to you

you and I ran together

through the landscape of my mind

we played and rolled around together in the grass

we were best friends, you and I

I went with you wherever you would go

I crawled on all fours to emulate you

I chewed foul tasting leaves with my mouth hanging wide open

and pretended I loved the taste as much as you did

eventually, I convinced myself I had

—

when I was six, we were out together playing

me and my best Stegosaurus friend

and one day, I touched the plates on your back

and asked you what they were for

but you never told me

you never spoke to me at all after that day

maybe I hurt your feelings by asking

maybe you were embarrassed of those plates

maybe you didn’t know what they were there for

but I didn’t know, either

it was okay—you didn’t have to know

you didn’t have to feel stupid for it

like I did

—

when I was nine, I knew I wanted to be a writer

and that became more important than anything

even you, Stegosaurus

but you were still important to me

we were still friends

and I still loved you

so I wrote you into my stories

I think you became a little less real, then

than you had been in my mind

but I could still see you clearly

the plates on your back, the spikes on your tail

your slow, steady walk on all fours

the plants you ate, the lands you grazed

but in my stories, you were alone

I wasn’t beside you on my human hands and knees

because I couldn’t be

I was embarrassed to be

not embarrassed of you, Stegosaurus

but of myself

I seemed so much less significant

being there next to you

even as your friend

so by the power of my own pencil

I made myself disappear from our story

and it became your story instead

I let myself fade away from you

I let you take the wheel

I let you stomp the earth by storm

—

by the time I was eleven, I was a chronic reader

I got caught reading a book about you

(I didn’t know you were a reptile, Stegosaurus

you never told me that)

in my fifth grade classroom

and for some reason

my stomach sank when my teacher held it up

for all to see

I stared at the Tyrannosaurus on the cover

as it was all I could do

you kids still love your dinosaurs, she said

and the classroom bellowed with laughter

—

when I was thirteen, I stopped thinking about you

not because I didn’t care about you, Stegosaurus

I just didn’t know you anymore

now that I understood you

I couldn’t know you like I used to

I didn’t hear you

I didn’t see you

I knew all there was to know about you

I learned that no T-rex ever made fun of you

because you never even existed

at the same time as them

you never made it that far

I no longer loved you like I used to

I no longer defended your small brain

or your kindness

I let you go completely

I let you slip from our playtime, our stories

I let you fade into a memory

of something that formed me

(even though deep down, I didn’t want to

deep down, I wanted to play with you again)

but I couldn’t pay those thoughts any mind

because more than anything now

I wanted to be a grown up, Stegosaurus

and grown ups don’t care about dinosaurs

—

when I turned twenty-two a week ago

I was going through old things

when I found the book about you

with the big Tyrannosaurus on the cover

I huffed a laugh

he always gets the spotlight, I thought

both him and you

so I thought about you again

and a warmth spread in my chest

like the hot sun beaming down on my spirit

I realized something for the first time—

adults do care about dinosaurs, I thought

of course they do

how could they not?

adults are the reason we know about dinosaurs

without them

we would have a world full of oblivious children

that would have never been able to play with you

to write stories about you

to imagine you

or make you their best friend

I opened the book in my lap

and smiled down at you

and it felt like smiling down at my younger self

thank you, Stegosaurus

for inspiring me in my youth

for letting me make a home of you