A lady in the crowd
2015-05-02 02:51:23 (UTC)

Summer 2014 Recovery.

We've worked our daily labor to succeed in fulfilling our goals. At least that's what my old lover Chuck always said. His wavy ginger hair bounced each time he took a step forward. He detested his beautiful freckles that spread throughout the temples of his cheekbones. His athletic body was a wonderland which I fascinatedly explored.
Then his smile, Oh his cheerful smile melted my insides. His dimples illuminated the darkest corners of my depression.

He's my hero who held a broad smile at the worst times. He always pushed me forward in times of adversity. Supporting my passions even though I hadn't developed an indestructible steel champion like attitude. Chuck saw potential in me when no one else bothered. He crushed my insecurities and boosted my confidence. Showing me that I must believe in myself.

It began step by step. Together we worked like savages as we used our bodies as multi-purposed tools. He taught how to mow lawns. I asked if it was morally correct for woman to mow lawns.
He said,"It's not lady like and most don't. So what?"
This meant so much more than completing a simple chore of having a freshly cut lawn. With all of my will my hands pulled the lever as the motor roared to life. My hands were blistered as I cried out in pain. "Don't you dare let go of the handle. Push it finish what you started!" he chanted. My bony ass and scrawny legs stuck out as I pulled further. I must've looked ridiculous. My anorexia worried him; his biggest fear was that my eating disorder would evolve into bulimia. We sat at his round table for two hours. He patiently waited for me to finish my plate. "Please eat it all ," he repeated for the twentieth time. I took slow bites of the soon cold carrot soup and mashed potatoes. "We're almost done with supper. As your great finally you'll drink Suero and take your vitamins." He's asking for too much. Another hour passed as I accomplished my daily goal. This went on for two long months of recovery.

Far too soon I lost my first dominant lover and childhood friend. I left him because I never truly felt satisfied with my master. Each time we kissed it felt awfully nauseating. As talented as his tongue danced and swirled in my mouth I felt deceived by kissing someone who I felt like a brother. I stole the most valuable jewel. Little portions of his live. Where we carelessly tossed time away; moments and unnecessary sacrifices you can't take back. He saw a young woman he unconditionally loves. His other half he would someday call his wife. Yet I saw family, an older brother who nicknamed me as Annie.

~Yours Truly,