COMMONWEALTH AVENUE—I’m a crosswalk light on Commonwealth Avenue and I’m sick of never getting high fived.

Every day, as you walk toward me, I thrust my red hand into the air to give you a high five. And every day, you leave me hanging.

Are you kidding me?

Trust me, I’m used to being left out. When I was in kindergarten and played at recess with the other young crosswalks, nobody would ever push me on the swings. I was always picked last for the dodgecar team. And when we played two truths and a lie, everyone teased me because I can’t fib without turning bright red.

There’s nothing I hate more than being excluded. Whenever you leave me hanging on a high five, I try to put on a brave face, but inside, I’m sobbing.

Do you realize how hurtful that is? I make it so easy for you too! I even have a countdown next to my hand to tell you how much time you have left to high five me!

I moved to the big city because I thought people would be nicer to me. I heard that Boston is filled with people from all crosswalks of life. I saw videos of bikers waving hello to the BU Bridge crosswalk light. I thought you loved your community and you’d put on a smile every morning and say “Hey Crossie, up top!” or “Sauce me that beautiful red hand of yours, would ya?” It would make my day. My year. I’d never be sad again.

And if you’re about to say that you thought I was telling you to stop walking, save your breath. I’ve heard that one before. Even if that were the case, you and I both know it wouldn’t work. Last week, I put my hand up to give you a high five and, even though you apparently thought that meant to NOT walk, you ran across the street and almost got hit by a car. I thought you were about to risk your life to high five me!

And then, once again, you just ignore me.

Oh, you’re too short to reach my hand? Sorry, dude, my bad. Have a good day!

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