I went to get the emissons tested for my car today. There were long lines, I had a million things to do, it was a standard Monday and this was just one more thing that needed to be checked off my list. I waited in line behind an older man in a red convertable, I was four cars away from it being my turn. I sat listening to some generic music playing on the radio, nothing upbeat or inspiring, just standard background noise on this cool, overcast day.
Blake loved the Summer months. Every Summer after school let out, Blake would get to spend the vacation with his grandparents on Black Lake. They had a beautiful cabin with some acreage, but the best part was the waterfront on the lake. This is where Blake spent most of his time when visiting.
All my life I have felt like I'm never enough for a person
ABOUT ME WITH A LITTLE BIT OF ANXIETY
Henry liked the way the building was connected to the parking garage. It had double glass doors on a second level opening onto a full glass walkway leading to the main offices. There was a nice lightness to the pathway and it always felt like a good start the day strolling through the sunshine even though it often opened doors onto a landscape of slow torture and “death” from non-action, indecision and loneliness. He had just arrived for the day and was just entering the walkway, heading diagonally towards the office when he saw Ralph ahead in his usual blue tie and wrinkled shirt, carrying a shoe box and moving at a hurried pace with Vice President O’Brien ahead of him in his freshly-pressed business suit. Ralph’s shoe suddenly caught the carpet a bit and with a stutter step, The box that he was carrying popped out of his arms sending one of the sneakers flying up in the air, in an arc that headed straight towards the back of Vice President O’Brien’s head hitting him as it descended. O’Brien stopped dead in his tracks and stood there, still for a long moment. Ralph stepped forward to pick up the blue tissue paper and the two shoes that had fallen out from his hands and he muttered, “I’m very sorry.”
It was 1984 and he was the sweetest guy and would dress like, "Billy Idol". So he was quite impressive and I did feel nervous and amazed when I saw him. So many women wanted him and yet he was so attentive to me. He really was so good looking and even wore eye makeup because it was the 80;s and men wore eyeliner! He was so cool and I would just swoon over him. I was hitting the clubs and would often go dancing and have fun with my friends.. His name was "Billy" and he was so fine and handsome and he would often make me feel beautiful. Feeling beautiful was not normal for me because I was so skinny and insecure. Many Spanish people don't think that being thin and skinny is too sexy and I was battling between two worlds. The Spanish culture and the American culture which is something many Spanish women must endure. Two concepts of contrasting beauty made me suffer so much since I was considered "not beautiful" in the Spanish culture and yet I was beautiful in the American culture. I was as thin as "Pat Benatar" and my hair was short like hers. Most Spanish women had long hair but I had to cut mine due to a bad haircut and had to start over with short hair.
I remember holding you one morning pregnant as hell as the sheets smelled of embarrassment and the warmth as your resting belly swelled. You had wet the bed at 17 with me your fiance cuddling you in the bed, your cheeks rosy with shame as I helped change the sheets before saving on water as we showered together, a smile plastered to my face. If I remember correctly you my love, you had this amazing ability to feel both shame yet shameless at the exact same time. I remember getting to know you thinking well that’s not so bad you would wet the bed till you were 16, yet at the same time you were definitely cute enough to pull it off. I remember how embarrassed you were needing to defend yourself explaining it was only every once in a while and during those dreams where you think you were awake resting your cute booty on the seat, only to wake up in warm wet sheets. The thoughts that passed through my mind as you told me were simply, man she’s adorable when embarrassed I wonder how much I could tease. Yet at the same time the amount of shamelessness you had when you told me you were a female who was a male trapped in a female body had an air of bravery, a bravery I respected greatly in you. To me it didn’t matter if some nights we cuddled we woke up in a pool of blood and your face red with embarrassment, or the fact that despite being a guy you became cutely pregnant. Honestly to me you could’ve done or said anything and I would’ve accepted until you betrayed my love with disloyalty. Yet I’m not here to shame you in any way although perhaps it seems far from it, because we kept the protectors on our mattresses for the same reason you covered your face. You would hide your cute face ashamed of who you were and what you did thinking ten fingers could hide you from the world, you’d throw away sheets stained with guilt washing plastic keeping up appearances for people who never truly cared. Yet I was there loving you despite the skeletons, or shame with a smile on my face simply saying, “baby it’s okay because I’ll love you no matter how dirty you get.” Not saying that I was in particular fond of the more freaky things, but true love is more about accepting the scars that laid barren on your wrists, or knowing despite any mess I could shower you with my kisses. Love was despite any amount of pain or shame that I would hold you with a soft laugh saying, “Honey bun it’s okay, trust me it’s already a good day.”
Smiling, always smiling. No one knows or gets it, I have to keep on smiling. Smiling through the tears. Smiling through the hatred. No one knows just how lonely it is in this world. My daughter came down crying her friends being just everyday normal bitchy high school hormonal teenagers bickering back and forth over nothing really, but shes crying and inside I'm crying too. Now she's alone feeling and I'm right here with her alone myself inside. We are all alone we are born alone we die alone. She calmed down made up with her friends she's fine now no longer feeling alone. A talk with mom a nice hot bath and a few phone calls later she's back to her self. Yet I"m still alone I've never felt this alone. I'm married he's sleeping even if he wasn't he'd be right beside me zoned out into the tv I'd still be here alone. I;ts gotten worse over the years, my depression, my anxieties, my mental health period. I used to love to write I'd like to get back into it this is just me attempting something baring my should for you lovely readers all maybe one of you because I'm not writing something provocative or all that creative. I have to ease back into it I haven't written in years it's probably obvious. But that's me in a nutshell right now lonely feeling not wanting to really talk with anyone but thought I'd write somethings down and throw them out into the world because why not? Everyone else is doing it right? I'm just sitting here with my dog sleeping beside me and just thought I'd wanted to write a poem or short story about loneliness but all that really is coming out is my own story unfolding......and my own feelings of being lonely please be kind. My main point is even with that great big smile on my face I'm still lonely, married 17 years still lonely, surrounded by family and loved ones and yet still so lonely. I'm Alone. or at least I feel that way sometimes. I'm sure everyone does anymore especially with this corona virus crap going on it just makes everything so much harder. So try to be kind to one another and use some patience with others because you just don't know what they are going through or have been through that makes them force a smile if they are able to, to hide that big deep hole of loneliness inside of them. That is all I have maybe next time I will have something better. Thank you for reading and have a good night or day depending on the time you read this.