Excerpt: Love Comes Once
Prologue
I log in and notice that there is a message from an unfamiliar screename in my account. I click on “new messages”, and as I wait for my screen to finally conduct whatever pattern it needs to transcend into my virtual box of news, I finish my coffee. The phone starts to ring and my desperate desire to claim the unknown is cut down prematurely by this daily grind we all call work.
Ten customer emergencies and three hours later, I point my mouse to the Promised Land and click. I hold my breath in anticipation, and as my screen slowly starts to display the image that sidelines the email heading, I find that there is no air left in my lungs to exhale. Where did it go?
It’s been four years since my eyes beheld this vision, I can’t move. I cannot even click on the message to open it up. I am frozen in place, with no idea how to move an inch. I reach deep down and pull the strength together and remind myself to breathe.
I am truly afraid that opening this message will shatter what is left of my existence. I tell myself that the worst has already passed and that there could be nothing further that could prevent me from seeing another day.
With determination I click on the subject link, and watch it refresh the screen and replace the page with her face, followed by her message to me, she says:
Wassup,
You know...I was sitting here chillin...my birthday is Monday...I started laughing to myself because I thought of my birthday party I had years ago when we had a blast.
I'll be 31.... Forgiveness is a bitch...but you know when you're happy in your life it's not so hard after all. So, that being said...time heals all wounds. I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas and New Year!
Party it up big!
Terrilyn
I have read this message over and over again. I can’t respond because to reply, to reply would take me away from this page, this miracle, and it may disappear. I can not believe that four years of rolled up emotions, carefully hidden regrets and pains, could so easily be opened up in me. With just a glimpse of her face, I have come undone.
The last words that she spoke reverberate in my mind in the endless, countless, darkest moments I have endured since her call those years ago.
She said, “You used to be so beautiful to me, now all I see is ugly.” Every word, every syllable, and every ounce of pain delivered in those words I deserved. I could not but believe the truth in them for she never lied.
Chapter One
Sitting in the house I am getting restless with nothing to do. Annette has left for Hawaii for the week and Evelyn can’t tear herself away from her latest straight-girl love infatuation. Now don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Evelyn’s desire to fall in love, I just wish that the person that she was attracted to would just be honest with her and not lead her on, with the hopes of a future.
It is late August in beautiful Sunny Southern California, and I am behind four walls. Something has got to give! I have walked around my studio apartment, which is conveniently located on the underside of Evelyn’s house. It was once a basement type storage area, that was converted into a play room, and then luckily for me was turned into a pretty good sized bachelors pad complete with a kitchen and an amazing bathroom.
The bathroom is situated on the slope of the property so there is literally stairs to the throne and bathtub. If you are tall, it is a little cramped in height. It’s perfect for me; I can stand and take a shower comfortably without having to bend. But then again I’m only five-foot one.
I grab the paper and open the calendar section to see what I’m missing out on. Movies, concerts, dancing, they all catch my eye and leave me listless. I put the paper down and reach for the article that I had saved on my desk, letting it collect dust, hoping that one day I would be able to talk Annette and Evelyn into going with me.
It was an article on a dance club that was literally making huge headlines; it was a club specifically catering to Big Beautiful Women. Can you imagine? A club where men went to meet and dance with women just like me. When the article came out, I was so excited that I called Annette at work and was like ‘Girl, you have to go with me to this club’.
When I had explained the premise of the club, she immediately asked me why I would want to degrade myself like that. “You’re not like them, why would you put yourself down like that?”
That is when I got on the defensive and said to her that going to mainstream clubs was fun with her, just like going to gay clubs with Evelyn was fun because I supported them, why wouldn’t I want to experience something that was “made” for me.
She said, “Honestly? You have never had a problem going to ‘mainstream’ clubs and not had someone dancing with you. Why would you want to go to that kind of club?”
“Because I’m tired of dancing for show, just so that they can see that if they dance with me it wouldn’t be so bad. They could always say ‘hey the girl can dance’ only to walk away without a word when the song ended. Or worse, how about walking through the club and meeting the eyes of all the men searching for someone, and as they look at me or upon my face, quickly avert their eyes and walk by even faster. Better yet, how about having a man come at you in the parking lot when the club is closed, the night is over and there is no one left to see that they were in fact interested in you. Well interested enough to think that you would be a willing candidate for meaningless sex.”
Realizing that I had said too much, I had literally let my slip show. I ended the conversation talking about mundane happy-go-lucky person subjects and put the article away along with my feelings.
Taking the article in hand I walked over to the computer to do a little bit of research. What would be the harm in checking out their hours for tonight? None I say!
There on my screen appears the website with a little teaser button that begs you to “click to enter.” Do I dare? Yes I do!
Bold with mouse in palm, I left click my way through the door into another world. There are pictures everywhere of Big Beautiful women dancing and partying. Now don’t get me wrong I’m not one to judge, but some of the pictures display a small handful of women wearing outfits that scream out “just because it comes in your size, does not mean you should wear it’.” Lord, please don’t strike me down where I sit for that inconsiderate comment. Shaking my head I continue my journey.
Success, I found the address and hours. What? I would just like to know where it’s located, and what time their hours are! Skimming the paragraph my mood starts to dim for there in midst paragraph I read the following: “Due to popularity, the club has outgrown the size of the current venue, and we are in the process of acquiring a bigger and better place to party. Keep checking back.”
Unbelievable, is there something against me getting to this club? There has to be another way. So I start searching the web engine for anything related to BBW’s (that’s Big Beautiful Women). Searching, searching, I see clothing lines and pornography sites, not! So I plug in ‘BBW dance’ and I hit the jackpot.
I click on the first link and find that there is a club also in Los Angeles, but tonight they are not at their regular venue and will be in Beverly Hills instead. What’s another ten minutes west? This is too good to pass up; I’m really going to do it this time!
Funny how when something is important to me somewhere in my head a song starts playing that coincides with the event. Right now I hear “All by myself.”
Chapter Two
Last makeup check, I swing my face side to side looking for anything out of order. Okay, my hair came out good; eyes look good, what about the lips? Should I wear lip gloss, or go all out and apply the lipstick?
So many thoughts are running through my head. I keep telling myself ‘you can do this,’ there are plenty of people that go out alone. That doesn’t make them desperate it shows their strength and confidence. My friends do not define me, I do. Yes that’s the right attitude.
I’m a pretty girl, not extraordinary, but definitely a face you won’t forget.
You know, that is one of my biggest pet peeves. I’m getting mad just thinking about it. Bear with me, I know that you are sitting there wondering what I’m talking about, but just me thinking and even saying that I have a pretty face set me off.
I truly hate when someone thinks that they are complimenting me by saying “you have such a pretty face.” Okay my face is pretty, so what are you leaving out?
Counting to ten, I retrace my thoughts back to the point that I was making to you. Where was I? Oh yes my face! Putting on makeup is not a necessity, it is just an enhancement. I do not spend countless hours, on a daily basis making up my face. A little mascara, lip gloss, and maybe some eyeliner is all it takes. You can bet on it, that 90% of the time this face is au naturale. I rarely get a blemish, got to thank my grandmother for that, kisses to you Nana!
My hair is pretty long, just past the middle of my back. Tonight I have it curled and parted on the side. I have chosen to wear a long black skirt with a slit on the side and topped it with a blue silk blouse. A little cologne behind the ears, a touch on the cleavage, two drops at the knees and I am ready to roll.
Grabbing my purse I check to make sure that I have everything. Lip gloss? Check. Cell phone? Check. Identification? Triple check! I am ready to go, keys in hand I look back at my apartment as though it will be the last time. But I assure myself that it will be the last time that I walk out the door afraid and the first time I step out into a new way of thinking.
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I arrive at the restaurant that is hosting the club for the night, I have parked my car, yet I find it hard to actually disengage the door lock so that I might exit the car. I check myself one last time in the visor mirror, and bite the bullet.
Head high, I walk with a purpose towards the entrance; I pull the door open and step inside. The occupants currently spaced here and there are diners, not yet finished with their meals. I am at this point thinking that I got something wrong. The crowd is a bit older, and it seems that there is a type of birthday party going on. I am just about to walk out the door when the hostess stops me and asks if I need help. To which I reply that “I was supposed to be meeting my friends at a dance club, and I believe I made a mistake, so I was just leaving.”
I take one step towards the door and feel like my exit will be unnoticed and I can save what is left of my ego, which just so happens to be hanging on to the slit of my skirt, peeking out. Wrong! That is just too easy Crys.
In a very distinct and loud voice she says, “Oh! You’re here for the Extra Large club, you should have a seat in the bar, dinner is almost over and they are about to start setting up for the evening” With a smile she points in the direction of the bar and walks away. See what you get for telling that little white lie Crystal Lynn!
In my peripheral vision I see my pride mixing with the shadows on the wall making a clean get away. Traitor!
I quickly walk in the direction of the front door and head out to the parking lot. I get all the way to my car, get in, place the key in the ignition and contemplate turning the motor over, when courage happens along and comes knocking on the window.
In my head there is an argument going on about the length that I had gone to getting here, to only walk away without getting what I really wanted. If you don’t do it now, you never will. Alright already! I’m going back in; I just need a moment to gather my thoughts.
Pulling open the door I head back to the restaurant, agreeing that a Corona would be an excellent idea to get the party started. Ok, so shoot me a little liquid courage is just what the doctor ordered.
Side note, I can’t really handle more than one drink, so we are safe, no intervention is necessary!
I once again step through the doors and go straight to the bar. Looking ahead I see that there are people at the bar, so I will not be all alone. I’m looking around at the seating arrangements and decide that the place is not so bad after all.
In my peripheral vision I notice that someone is looking at me, not just looking at me, but looking with one of those smiles that make you feel like you just stepped out into the sun. I turn my head in his direction, meet his stare, for it is a stare, and return the smile. Continue walking towards the bar and sit at the empty bar stool to his left. I am really bold, I really just sat down, and I am really hearing myself order a Corona like it’s what I do! Unbelievable, who is this chic?
About half-way through my Corona, which didn’t take to long to get to, because I pretty much downed it, he speaks. “Hello, how are you?” there goes that smile again.
It’s funny I hear myself talking, answering his questions, completely engaging in a complete conversation where I am also asking questions and smiling back. He is so easy to talk to because I am hearing myself open up to him, was that a laugh? Did I really just laugh out loud? No really, who is this chic?
I feel like I have known him forever! Just as I was in mid sentence about something he gets the strangest look, turns to his right and says to me “oh, and this is my Wife Terrilyn.” I look past him to make her acquaintance, just as she is turning towards him to see what he is saying she glances up towards me, all I can think is ‘look at her eyes, her lashes are so long, she is so beautiful.’ Her mouth is moving I know that she is saying something, but all I can do is stare at her and raise my head up and down like and idiot. I finally hear “nice to meet you, have a great time” and they are moving away towards a booth with a small group of people.
The music starts going, and before I know it the club is filled to capacity. One after another, men are asking me to dance with them, talking to me, trying to buy me drinks, asking for my phone number. I am overwhelmed so completely that my head is spinning.
Have you ever been to a club, and there is this one girl there that everyone is trying to talk to, be around, and dance with, while the rest of us are sitting around the room like wallpaper? Yeah you know what I’m talking about, I know you do! Tonight that was me!
I danced the night away, and I laughed with my whole heart. Before leaving the club, the couple that I had met earlier gave me their email address so that they could give me the information to join the club they mentioned that they were part of.
What I found very interesting was that they were part of a group for BBW’s, which held get-togethers and different functions in and around the Los Angeles area. The majority of the people that were in the club tonight had met earlier in the day at a nearby park and had a huge bar-b-que; I was really impressed.
Leaving the club, I’m walking on air. I feel like Cinderella, vindicated! I got go to the ball, dance with many a Prince Charming, and left when I was ready! I am on top of the world and truly happy that I followed my first thought and just did it. Boy have I been missing out on life.
When I got home Evelyn was just pulling into the driveway and shutting the gate. I was going to try to walk down the driveway to my apartment without saying a thing, but she had a twelve pack in hand and asked me if I would have a beer with her.
So while we sat on the porch and I nursed the bottle listening to her latest adventure with Serena, I was secretly reminiscing on my night. In mid thought I heard Evelyn ask me a question, and by the way that she was looking at me, I know it was really important. Oh shit, how do I ask her to repeat the question without her thinking that I wasn’t paying attention to her? Ok, let me recall the last thing that I remember her saying. Serena and the kids were going to Mexico to visit family, but that was a while ago.
“I’m sorry E, I think that the Corona has made my head fuzzy, what did you ask me?”
“Punk Ass Mo Fo!” that’s Evelyn’s term of endearment for me. “I was asking you if it was wrong for me to be mad that she is up and leaving for two weeks. Do I have a right to say anything?”
“Well if you have to ask Silly Ass, you know that you don’t.” I start laughing to lighten the mood. I know that she is sitting precariously on the edge of unreason. Serena is a girl that E works with who is very flirty, very needy, and very straight.
Serena has told Evelyn on more than one occasion that they could never be more than ‘friends’ and that she was attracted to her but could not cross the line into actually doing anything ‘intimate’ with her. If that’s the case Ho’, why do you keep on flirting with Evelyn, sitting in her lap, and worst of all calling her when you or your kids need something!
So many times I have wanted to just get in my car and drive to the girls’ house and leave her laid out somewhere, but I think of my E and I just sit here and listen. I try to be constructive in my opinions and advice, because she is very sensitive, and may turn in a quick second and get extremely defensive.
“Well Chick,” I say “I’m going to head on down, I’m sleepy. I had a beer when I went out tonight, and another now here with you, I met my quota.”
“Good night, I guess you can leave me here with all this beer and I can drink myself into oblivion. Nobody knows,” She trails off singing the last part; she isn’t serious about drinking the rest of the beer, just trying to play on my sympathy because she isn’t ready to go in yet.
Unfortunate for her, I’m not falling for it tonight. I really am tired and would love to wash off this makeup and jump into bed pulling my covers up and over.
I walk down the driveway, get to the bottom and remember that I left my purse on top of E’s car. So I turn back around and march double time to retrieve it, what a space case I am tonight.
Once inside the house, I shut the door, and lean up against the jamb. All of a sudden, reality kicks in and I get that “Oh no, what did you do?” feeling. Taking a deep breath I analyze the night and can only describe it this way:
I have literally stepped off of the sidewalk into traffic without looking in either direction. The road that I have crossed is so vast; it is as though I have crossed national lines. I was not afraid but now that I have crossed the street and turned to look at the direction from which I came, I see the pitfalls that I dodged along the way.
The reality is that for twenty-one years, yes twenty-one years, I let myself become a second class citizen in my own life. I am the master at intrigue and I have hidden it well, so well in fact, that sometimes I fool myself. Most believe me to be the strongest, sweetest, most good natured, well adjusted ‘for what she’s been through’ woman there is. However there is more than meets the eye, you see what I don’t allow them to see, is that dark hour at the end of the night when I put away my “super woman” costume and the only thing left standing is a dewy eyed little girl staring up at the hanger. When I let myself be all that I truly am, allow me to be me, it can only be this way; alone and in the dark. I have to maintain my identity.
Chapter Three
Sunday morning, I don’t recall closing my eyes, let alone falling asleep so soundly. I get up and get my day started, well put the coffee maker to brewing. Rummaging through the refrigerator I decide to make a big breakfast because Jessica will be home in about an hour. She spent the weekend with her best friend Giovanni.
I know to make enough food for about five people because between the two of them, they can put you in the poor house. Jessica and Gio are on the precipice of their teen years, yet to unfold and reveal their true selves. They are uniquely paired; once they met they were inseparable. From day one they devised a definition to educate the less fortunate on the dynamics of who they were; they would explain away common friendship with the term Sister-Mates, a cross between soul mates and sisters. What one lacked in grace or character, the other lacked in wit and substance. Together they balanced out and maintained the others’ order.
They make do and survive their separation during school hours, for they attend different schools. But you can bet that after that they are either in the library or at one of their many homes. They share my humble abode, Gio’s mother’s home, and Grandpa J’s. They prefer the latter because Grandpa J spoils them rotten. Whatever his “girls” want they have but to utter a sigh and he has their wishes granted.
Does that make them bad girls? On the contrary, they receive with respect and dignity the offerings placed before them and truly appreciate their fortune. My girls still play with their Barbie’s; well they design clothing for them now instead of building imaginary storylines for them.
I am truly blessed to enjoy the relationship I have with my daughter, it is my most valued treasure. When she was a little girl she loved her Daddy just a little more than me, but since the divorce two years ago, the tides have changed.
In the past two years we have faced many a struggle and withstood the storm and came out the other side pretty good if I do say so myself. I’m the type of mother that earns trust and respect and returns it tenfold. There is absolutely nothing I would not do for her, in the pursuit of making her a respectful and responsible contribution to this crazy thing life. If you do not teach your child right from wrong and live as an example you have nothing. The greatest ability that God gave us was the ability to love and nurture without reason.
This lesson alone I try to instill in Jessica, and in the long run to Gio as well. Every single day of Jessica’s life, I made her believe that she was beautiful inside and out and that there was nothing that she could not accomplish if she just tried.
I’m sitting here cutting onions and tears are running down my eyes. Such a sap! When I start thinking about the type of mom that I have been, who I am today and who I want to be in the future, I get a little out of sorts. You see I made a promise the moment Jessica let out her first wail, that I would never leave her and I would always make sure she knew how very important she was to me. She was born on 4/21 at 4:21 pm. Everyday since then @ 4:21pm I find her, talk to her, hug her, and tell her how much I love her.
Am I an obsessive Mother? Hey anything is possible. Thinking about it I can pinpoint that I am this way because I have never met my own Mom and hold just the teensiest tiniest bit of resentment towards her.
She left me behind when I was six months old, never to return. When I would ask my family why, they would all become quiet or just say that they didn’t remember the reasons behind her leaving. I think that I could never really grasp the feelings that I had for and about her until Jessica cried. All I could think was how was it possible? How could a mother leave their child behind?
It wasn’t as though she was young and couldn’t be responsible because I have two older brothers that she took with her. So when I was told that she left me because I looked too much like my dad, I had no choice but to believe it with every fiber of my being.
Well then again if you add to the fact or give credence to the family scandal, the one where it seems she was having an affair with my uncle during the time she became pregnant with me. Well I guess you could say I had ample reason to be better. I tell you finding out about that one was a doozey.
Ok, let’s leave that sob story for another day there’s chorizo and eggs to make, tortillas to warm and OJ to squeeze. Maybe I will take the girls to go see a movie tonight. Smiling I pick up my coffee cup and take my first sip. Oh that is so good. I look down at the table and am amazed. I must have gone on Auto-pilot, breakfast is ready!
Chapter Four
Heading home from work, traffic is light and my day went pretty easy. Not bad for a Friday afternoon. Annette comes home on Sunday which leaves E and I still on our own.
I really don’t want to sit at home so I am contemplating my options for the night. E was talking about hitting up West Hollywood maybe do some dancing. But deep down I want to branch out and explore the big girl life.
Thinking about it I started wondering what I did with the email address for that couple that I met. I could email Terrilyn and see if there was something out there to do. I don’t know why I haven’t emailed them earlier; I think it may have been jitters not too sure. I assure myself that I have just been too busy not outright chicken shit.
Parking my car I decide that no I was not going to go dancing and would spend time catching up on my emails. Plus if nothing turned out to be intriguing I had a new series of books that I had been dying to get my hands on. A nice quiet weekend tangled in bed book in hand is always a great way to spend my weekend. Completely happy to have settled on my decision I head on down the hill to get it started.
Jessica is gone for the week with Gio’s family to Las Vegas, unbelievable that my 13 year old has more of a social life than I do. Go figure. After dinner I grab my purse and start the search for the paper containing the email address. God my purse is such a mess I seem to collect every piece of paper around because the proof is in my hands. There are receipts in here from six months ago. I guess I just gave away my big secret; I’m not the girl that changes purses like I change my chonies. (You know the under garment that surrounds my nether regions.) Or maybe I’m one of those people that really aren’t comfortable with change, could that be it?
I have always wanted and desired to be girly, you know changing purses to match my shoes and all but I just can’t seem to get there. Inside me the diva is screaming to let her out so she can attack my wardrobe, but I got her ass on lockdown. I’m not a tomboy for the record; I just haven’t gotten there yet. I have a picture in my mind of the person that I am supposed to be; one day soon I will get there. I am a work in progress.
Finally finding the slip of paper I go over to the computer and turn it on. Knowing that it will take forever to get online I walk over to the radio and put on my Miles Davis “Kind of Blue” cd. Oh that is so much better! For most people that know me they would be rather surprised at my taste in music. When I am alone I really let myself delve deeply into significant music, music that sings to my heart. Today it’s Miles, who knows later on it may be Pachebel’s Canon in D Major. Yes, that truly does my heart good.
Getting to the point here, I sit and get ready to take a leap. I log into my email account and choose to compose a message then halfway through hit the delete button. Up pops the “are you sure” message, yes damn it. I don’t want to put myself out on a limb with the message, what if I sound desperate? So instead I enter the address on instant messenger to see if Terrilyn is logged in.
“Hello? It’s Crystal, I met you and your husband at the dance club in Beverly Hills not too long ago.” and I hit enter. I’m feeling a little desperate here! What are they going to think, will they even remember who I am?
Time passes and I do see that she is logged in, but no response is coming. Feeling like I made a big mistake, I minimize the window to my tool bar and start reading emails. What I can’t understand is why I am so nervous, why do I feel like jumping out of my skin?
My toolbar has lit up; she answered me! “Wassup?” and so it begins. Before long we have talked about a plethora of subjects and have passed up about two hours. Before the end of the conversation I am sending her emoticons of a kissy face, promising to talk again real soon. To which there is a long pause, and then a kissy face is replied.
Ok the time passed and conversation was light and fun and many possibilities for the future have been given to me like a precious gift, but the one thing I can’t seem to stop thinking about is her smile.
I am sitting here feeling high on life, and all I want to see is her smiling face again. We made plans to hang out, but there was a huge party that was being planned at a local hotel suite that was paramount on the agenda. The entire group had planned a “bring some food and your drink of choice and dance yourselves silly in your pajamas” party.
I am so excited, I’m wondering if I will be able to keep from imploding during the rest of the month until the date arrives. A whole month to go, what will I do with myself? I will just have to keep busy.
From this point on my weekend seemed to breeze right on by, when ever I could I would log into instant messenger to see if Terrilyn was logged in, sometimes I would be lucky and get to talk and others times I would just tell myself better luck next time.
I guess that seemed to be how time passed during the weeks that followed, I would go to work, take care of business, and then settle down to the computer to talk about the up coming party.
At one point Terrilyn and I spent a conversation on figuring out what kind of pajamas to wear. We both agreed that we weren’t going to show up to the party in naughty lingerie as we were sure some definitely would. In the end I chose flannel pajamas that comprised of shorts and a matching top. Terrilyn said that she would be coming in pajama pants with a matching top. All was settled and all that was left were a few days to finally get there.
The final plans were set; there would be about 25 of us partying between three or four rooms. There was to be one main room for the actual party where the food and drinks would be kept.
Most of the guests would be coming to party but would leave for their own homes at whatever hour things wound down. Terrilyn told me that she and her husband had decided to get a room so that they would be staying. We planned on having a blast without worrying about driving afterwards.
Chapter Five
Ok it’s really time for me to lay it all out on the line for you. I don’t think that I have been honest enough with you to let you really see just why I am so excited about this function. Why I can’t wait to get there to the party. It has nothing to do with the party or being with people that hang out together for the good of big women everywhere. I would like to believe that that is where my heart lies. Where my intentions sit in wait, but it is the thought of Terrilyn that is rattling me, everyday I wait for just a moment to talk with her. The very thought brightens my day.
Ever since I can remember and I can remember far, I have had crushes on and lusted after the female form. In art, in movies, in everything around me there has always been a connection. I used to let my dad’s idea of naked women be viewed as nothing but an expression of true art. When we were home nudity was not viewed as unnatural and immoral when it was brought into our realm, but was told that nothing in this world could be more beautiful than God’s creation and perfection in the nude form.
I’m not saying that we all ran around the house naked, please remove that from your mind; instead we were exposed to many venues of painted, sculpted, and sketched art of the human form. We were taught to appreciate the gift of our own temples so to speak, and to accept our differences as our uniqueness.
For example I have moles on my face, from my earliest memory I remember being told that they were my beauty marks. At no time in my life have I done anything but embrace and love my moles. When asked by my doctor to have them checked because they might need to be removed, I felt like the doctor was trying to steal my identity. I feel beautiful because of them; I would feel the true sense of the word ‘naked’ without them.
I have secretly crushed and loved women and found no attraction to men no matter how hard I tried. I tried so hard I married twice with no success. I have failed at every attempt to be normal and be what I think is requested of me.
Seeing a message from Terrilyn on my computer screen gives me just a glimmer of sunlight; I have let myself admit that I am attracted to her. But that is as far as I have taken it for I know she is married. I’m not trying to do anything or expect anything but somehow I can’t get past the feeling that it is mutual. I feel as though she is enjoying me in the same way. I could be lying to myself and leading myself down an unfamiliar road that could lead to my own demise, but I can’t stop what I feel nor do I want to deny it.
I no longer want to be someone else, I want to be me.
With that out on the table I can now pick up my overnight bag, grab my keys and head out to the suites. I’m trying to get there a little early so I can help set up everything. I have already agreed that I would be one of the ones that will stay the night in one of the rooms.
I get to the designated hotel, park my car and head up to the main room. People are moving around setting up food and drinks and stuff and pretty much look like they are finished. I see Terrilyn’s husband so I flag him down and let him know that I made it. He tells me that he’s happy to see me and that I could set my stuff in the bedroom area and to find a seat and relax because they have everything under control.
Without seeming anxious I fight the urge to ask where she is, so I obey his direction. Not too long after I am seated he tells me that he is going to go next door to their room and finish getting ready, that Terrilyn was putting on her Pajamas, and where were mine. I said that I had them in my bag and would be putting them on soon. He told me to grab my bag and come next door to get ready. Bag in hand I follow.
When I walk through the door there is a sitting area with a couch and a bar area exactly like the room next door. Through the double doors I hear Terrilyn laughing at something, she has a brush in her hand and is brushing her long hair, catches a glimpse of me and smiles. I am mesmerized because she looks so genuinely happy to see me.
I look at her and I gasp and am a little mortified, when asked what was wrong all I could do was giggle and say to them “hold on a second and I will show you.” I ask if anyone is in the bathroom so I could change and hightail it through and quickly shut the door behind me.
For what seems like forever I am standing with my back against the door, breathing like I have just walked up ten flights of stairs with a dog chasing me trying to bite my behind every step of the way. All the while I want to break into hysterical laughter because I can’t pull my nerves together. Get yourself together girl you came next door to put on your pajamas get to it. When I finally get changed I check myself in the mirror and walk out. Standing in my short flannel pajamas I say “see!” They both turn towards me with clear amusement in their eyes yet I catch something in a glance they share between one another. I will hold on to that for later. Analyze that look and turn it around to discover the meaning just not right now, it’s not important.
What is relevant you ask? Terrilyn has on the exact pajamas; same color and design only hers are the longer pant version. Great minds think alike! We are all laughing and any awkwardness I was weary of never had a chance to surface.
Not long after this moment, in walk the friends that were with them at the club the night we met. One girl in particular looks from Terrilyn and then to me and makes the most disgusted face, just as I am being drug next door to get some food and drinks with Pierre. I follow him but get the feeling that I was just rescued from something ugly. I can ask myself what that was all about but choose not to even give it a second thought.
Chapter Six
The party is going full swing, there is music playing, people dancing and eating, laughing and drinking, just having a blast. It is intoxicating, I go around the room taking in my surroundings, meeting new people, talking and laughing right along. A lot of time has passed and I realize that Terrilyn is not here partying with us. I do know that I saw her come in but when I looked up again she was gone.
I look around the room and see that Pierre is still on bartender duty, so I walk up to him and strike up a conversation. We start talking about anything and everything. Conversation is easy and very comforting. We get into the subject of pajamas and start talking about the naughty lingerie that some women felt necessary to wear only to act offended when someone leered at them a little too long. Well at least they did when the looks were not by whom they wished to receive them from.
In general everyone is having a merry time. I am talking to Pierre but I am wishing that I was with her. Is that awful of me? He excuses himself from me and says that he will be right back. I stand right where he left me and wait for his return. Why do I suddenly feel like my lifeline was torn away?
Well be careful what you wish for girl because troubles coming right your way. Mr. Dance Fever, the man I so dub because I have not seen him stop, he has been dancing pretty much the whole night. As he walks up to me he says, “Well, you’re not exactly chocolate, but I can see by those eyes, that you would be the one to make me taste a different flavor!”
Are you serious? I am looking at the door hoping that Pierre will be coming back to save me from this boogabear so I will not have to hurt his feelings. Oh well there goes my hopes, that wasn’t him coming through the door. Letting out a silent sigh of exasperation I say to Mr. Oh So Not the One, “I like chocolate too, but I prefer mine without nuts” and smile as sweetly as I can. To which he starts laughing and tapping me on the shoulder, shakes his head and starts to walk away.
That was when Pierre returned, a little too late Mister! Oh well I handled it all by my little ole self.
“What was all that about?” Pierre is smiling but there is something else there behind his eyes and it is clearly not amusement. I tell him what the Neanderthal had said and how I answered him and he erupted in laughter and said “good because I thought I was going to have to beat him down for talking to you.”
“What’s this I hear? Could my ears be deceiving me? Is there truly a man left on this earth that has a chivalrous bone left intact?” I feign surprise. “Come on now you really didn’t think that I would be interested in what he had to offer did you?”
“No I pretty much thought that you had better taste than that.”
“Well I truly do, you can bank on it. Anyways, thank you for almost coming to my rescue. For a moment there I was getting a little scared. He is a little on the ‘dark and hairy’ side of hell no.”
Pierre grabs my hand and leads me to the door, “where are we going?” I ask. Pierre shakes his head and continues to pull me behind him. We walk next door and just as he is about to open the door he says, “Terrilyn is a little on the tipsy side, would you do me a favor and sit with her while I tend to some drinks?”
At last, oh my goodness, wait a minute that means that we will be alone. What if I can’t talk to her? How should I act? What am I going to do? Stop Crys you got this, just breathe.
I walk through the door and she is sitting on the couch, I shut the door behind me and walk over and sit down. I can see that she is definitely happy to see me, her eyes are shining, and her smile is in them. God she is gorgeous.
Chapter Seven
She is sitting on the couch, but she has her leg curled up so she is sitting sideways facing me. I mirror her as I arrange myself on the couch. I am looking at her face; her cheeks are a little red or blushed as in heated. There is so much I want to say, but I don’t feel a word capable of coating my tongue with eloquence and beauty is near. My mind is in complete chaos, a war by way of failed syntax or is it a complete misfire of the synopsis? Hello brain, any day now. I ask her why she wasn’t next door, she replied that she had hurt her foot and was resting it. And we’re off!
At first the conversation is silly between us, because we are both acting like we just met, and haven’t been sharing our most detailed lives over the internet all these past weeks.
I stick my chest out and ask the one question that I have been holding onto since I walked out the door earlier, “who was that girl, and why did she make all those faces at me?”
Now I may have been bold enough to ask, but I find that my cowardly face has turned away quickly as though expecting retaliation from her answer. The truth is that I don’t really care why she was making faces. I just want to know who she is to Terrilyn.
There is silence, as I glance up at her to see her expression she answers me, “Up ‘til now, she has been my girlfriend, but things haven’t been working out between us so I need to break it off with her. I planned on doing it tonight.”
Why did my heart just stop beating? I hear her, I see her mouth forming the words, but all I can think is whether or not I’m really hearing her.
She asks me straight out, if I could handle it? My brain is in a fog, handle it? Think Crys what is it that she is asking you to handle. Taking a deep breath in I exhale and seeming all too calm well at least on the outside, I say, “I’m more ready than you can imagine.”
We are talking and the words are flying across the couch, yet neither one of us has moved. This is so easy, this table tennis of words being exchanged back and forth, back and forth. Almost like a pendulum, never missing a beat. Yes that is exactly how I would explain this phenomenon. I have never been able to just flow, words normally get stuck mid throat and never make their way out. Trust me it isn’t because I don’t have anything worth saying, I’m really just too unsure of my own value. I have always stopped the words from sneaking over my tongue, in order to save another from having to hear my outlandish thoughts.
Have you ever been so fired up about an idea and can’t wait to share it, only to have someone clearly disconnect in the middle of the conversation? I have and I promised myself that I would never put myself in that position again. There is nothing as cutting as watching the light dimmer in someone’s eyes as you are speaking to them. Down to the very core of you, it knocks the wind out of your sails.
Time is flying by us; I have found myself many a time, just staring at her eyes. There is something so deep inside, something that I need to experience. Somewhere in the depth of those eyes, is a soul that needs to open up and sing.
She is truly a genuine person, whom will say exactly what is on her mind and mean it. Only to look at you after expelling her thoughts as though you would try to challenge her. I wouldn’t, there is something so strong about her character that I truly am taken off guard. I am older in years; she trumps me in her very essence. I find myself simply in awe.
She explains her situation to me, and I am hanging on every word. Terrilyn is a married woman, with a husband that has always known that she was a lesbian. She has a family, one she would not have had were it not for Pierre and Pierre alone. They are not a freaky couple, seeking a playmate. Although have ventured out to add spice to their sexual life. Up until now, nothing has worked, because the girl getting involved with her or with them has always been in it for Pierre, not for her.
I see deeply in those eyes, how this last sentence means more than anything she has revealed to me since we started this conversation. My mind fixates on those words, and my heart expels a single statement, “I will never hurt her that way.”
I sit transfixed, wondering how I will ever be able to function when I’m not right here next to her. How is it that I am sitting near someone that makes me feel like the echo of all my secret desires? Ever wish, thought, and silent prayer is expelled from her every word, her every breath.
Come back to reality, I keep telling myself, she is only a person. Time is flying by so unbelievably fast, and I am dreading the moment when I will have to leave for home. Well we have tonight to enjoy this moment, this conversation; I’m ready.
Before long it seems the party next door has dwindled down, and everyone is going to their prospective quarters to slumber. Terrilyn and I are still sitting on the couch when Pierre comes into the room. Terrilyn grabs me by the hand and takes me into the bedroom, there are two beds. She says, “Will you lay with me?”
“What about Pierre, where will he sleep?” I ask, because I know that the other bed was intended for someone else to use for the night. I had planned on taking the couch where we had been these past few hours. I knew that I could hold on to the essence of the aura that she had left behind, and let it keep me company so that I might get a little bit of sleep.
Shaking her head she says, “Pierre do you mind if Crys shares the bed with me?” he shakes his head, smiles and makes a pallet on the floor next to the bed on my side. “See, now lay down with me.”
Who am I to argue? Terrilyn takes my hand and we lay down, we’re not talking, we’re not doing anything but enjoying our first touch. Her hand feels like molten gold in mine; soft as silk but heated with an amazing sting of energy. Before I manage another thought I am deep asleep. I know this because I felt that amazing drift tearing at me when I heard the voice of someone very angry, and then a slam of not one but two doors.
Shaken I open my eyes to see Terrilyn and Pierre staring at the closed bedroom door. “Oh well!” she says, Pierre just shakes his head. Out the door was none other than the ex girlfriend.
Back to sleep we drift without another thought.
The morning comes too fast; I wake to the sound of my cell phone chiming. I had set the alarm so that I would not oversleep and be late in picking up the daughter. Cursing my alarm I quietly get up and head to wash up. Amazingly Terrilyn did not stir, she is still sound asleep.
After washing up I head out to the living room area and sit down where Pierre is watching football on the TV. “Good morning.” I say.
He smiles and says, “Good morning to you, did you sleep well?” To which I could only smile.
We are not long into the football game when Terrilyn pops her head out and comes to sit with us. She is sitting in the chair, I feel like asking Pierre to move so she can sit next to me. Am I rude or what? Laughing at myself I settle down and let my thoughts die down telling that inner self to chill.
Pierre and Terrilyn are talking and laughing back and forth, planning the rest of their day. They are all as a group going to have lunch and watch a movie. They asked if I would like to join them, but I let them know that I really had to go and pick up my daughter, but really wish that I could. To which they told me that I should just go pick her up and come back. God I really want to, but I know that I have to get the daughter ready for this week of school. Back to reality I go.
In order to stay with my decision, I left them in the living room and went into the bathroom to get myself ready to go. I kept trying to make myself move faster but my heart was not in it. I did not want to leave; it felt like I was going to be missing out on my life.
Grabbing my bag, I take one last look at the bed and head out to the living room so that I could say my goodbyes. Out the door I go, setting my bag down I let them know that I am leaving. I go over and give Pierre a hug and tell him thank you, and walk to where Terrilyn is sitting in the chair. I want to hug her, but she won’t stand up. Deeply staring into my eyes she says, “What? You’re not going to kiss me goodbye?”
My only thought was “You asked for it,” and I kissed her with everything I had to give. I felt the tingle from it down to my toes. My head was spinning by the time I could pull away from her lips, giving me an instant smile. I was amazed, thinking how amazing that kiss was. I looked deep into her eyes and smiled, because I could see that I not only surprised her, but dazed her as much as I did myself.
I have met my equal.
Chapter Eight
I have driven home on Auto-pilot my mind is reeling from the spark that ignited when our lips met. I want to analyze how I feel, but my heart is beating too fast and too strongly to attempt to do anything but breathe.
You can say ‘damn girl, calm down it was just a kiss,’ but it’s more than that. It is a defining moment, my stark reality that everything has been an utter lie. Yes I wanted to show her that I was bold, that I could be everything to her, that I was not afraid. Instead it was me that was shown and bared; lying naked to my soul. How do I begin to understand that reality lies within those emotions that were revealed by one kiss?
I’m at home and I am able to function but I am not fully myself. I am not depressed, but I feel as though I am mourning the loss of so many years that I lived for other people. Does that make any kind of sense? Why has it been more important to be approved by others than by my own myself?
I stop myself from logging onto the computer, because I know that she is busy at the movies with everyone else. But I really and truly want to know how she felt from that kiss. Did she feel what I felt, or am I crazy? I’m shaking my head because the dating rule about not calling too soon is popping in my head. Ok, this is a different situation, it wasn’t technically a date, and so does it apply?
I must be crazy because I can’t stop reeling, almost to the point of anxiety. Is this how stalkers begin? I’m kidding, come on now, the kiss was good but I’m not going to park outside of her house and wait for her to come home. Well not for just a peck kiss, no tongue was involved, I do have some restraint.
With that said the little stalker inside of me takes over and before long I hear myself say, ‘I’ll just log onto messenger and leave it on, who knows, maybe she’ll miss me.’ With the volume on as high as it can go, I walk away from the computer and perform the act of the person I used to be.
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The rest of the day flies by because I truly have a lot of things to take care of so that I may get my behind to work and the child ready for this week. I keep myself busy with so many things because I simply refuse to fall back into the computer chair just to see if she is there. Temptation is really a difficult enemy to overcome. Thoughts of the “could be’s” are simply eating away at my strength. By six o’clock I can no longer control the urge; I have to see if she is there.
Now mind you I am in the middle of eating dinner, but can’t eat, not until I know. Positive that another bite of food will not go down until I see for myself if she is there; I get up and walk over to the computer. Sure enough she is right there within my reach, but she hasn’t messaged me. Bite the bullet Crys, you are a grown woman!
Placing the cursor over her name, I double click, and start to type. The words are free flowing in the little box, but I keep backspacing, because I keep saying too much. I finally decide to just say “Hi.”
Once again we are off to talking about anything and everything; I do not once ask her about the kiss. Instead we are talking our way into finding time to do anything that will lead us back together without planning on being “together.”
....
I log in and notice that there is a message from an unfamiliar screename in my account. I click on “new messages”, and as I wait for my screen to finally conduct whatever pattern it needs to transcend into my virtual box of news, I finish my coffee. The phone starts to ring and my desperate desire to claim the unknown is cut down prematurely by this daily grind we all call work.
Ten customer emergencies and three hours later, I point my mouse to the Promised Land and click. I hold my breath in anticipation, and as my screen slowly starts to display the image that sidelines the email heading, I find that there is no air left in my lungs to exhale. Where did it go?
It’s been four years since my eyes beheld this vision, I can’t move. I cannot even click on the message to open it up. I am frozen in place, with no idea how to move an inch. I reach deep down and pull the strength together and remind myself to breathe.
I am truly afraid that opening this message will shatter what is left of my existence. I tell myself that the worst has already passed and that there could be nothing further that could prevent me from seeing another day.
With determination I click on the subject link, and watch it refresh the screen and replace the page with her face, followed by her message to me, she says:
Wassup,
You know...I was sitting here chillin...my birthday is Monday...I started laughing to myself because I thought of my birthday party I had years ago when we had a blast.
I'll be 31.... Forgiveness is a bitch...but you know when you're happy in your life it's not so hard after all. So, that being said...time heals all wounds. I hope you and yours have a wonderful Christmas and New Year!
Party it up big!
Terrilyn
I have read this message over and over again. I can’t respond because to reply, to reply would take me away from this page, this miracle, and it may disappear. I can not believe that four years of rolled up emotions, carefully hidden regrets and pains, could so easily be opened up in me. With just a glimpse of her face, I have come undone.
The last words that she spoke reverberate in my mind in the endless, countless, darkest moments I have endured since her call those years ago.
She said, “You used to be so beautiful to me, now all I see is ugly.” Every word, every syllable, and every ounce of pain delivered in those words I deserved. I could not but believe the truth in them for she never lied.
Chapter One
Sitting in the house I am getting restless with nothing to do. Annette has left for Hawaii for the week and Evelyn can’t tear herself away from her latest straight-girl love infatuation. Now don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Evelyn’s desire to fall in love, I just wish that the person that she was attracted to would just be honest with her and not lead her on, with the hopes of a future.
It is late August in beautiful Sunny Southern California, and I am behind four walls. Something has got to give! I have walked around my studio apartment, which is conveniently located on the underside of Evelyn’s house. It was once a basement type storage area, that was converted into a play room, and then luckily for me was turned into a pretty good sized bachelors pad complete with a kitchen and an amazing bathroom.
The bathroom is situated on the slope of the property so there is literally stairs to the throne and bathtub. If you are tall, it is a little cramped in height. It’s perfect for me; I can stand and take a shower comfortably without having to bend. But then again I’m only five-foot one.
I grab the paper and open the calendar section to see what I’m missing out on. Movies, concerts, dancing, they all catch my eye and leave me listless. I put the paper down and reach for the article that I had saved on my desk, letting it collect dust, hoping that one day I would be able to talk Annette and Evelyn into going with me.
It was an article on a dance club that was literally making huge headlines; it was a club specifically catering to Big Beautiful Women. Can you imagine? A club where men went to meet and dance with women just like me. When the article came out, I was so excited that I called Annette at work and was like ‘Girl, you have to go with me to this club’.
When I had explained the premise of the club, she immediately asked me why I would want to degrade myself like that. “You’re not like them, why would you put yourself down like that?”
That is when I got on the defensive and said to her that going to mainstream clubs was fun with her, just like going to gay clubs with Evelyn was fun because I supported them, why wouldn’t I want to experience something that was “made” for me.
She said, “Honestly? You have never had a problem going to ‘mainstream’ clubs and not had someone dancing with you. Why would you want to go to that kind of club?”
“Because I’m tired of dancing for show, just so that they can see that if they dance with me it wouldn’t be so bad. They could always say ‘hey the girl can dance’ only to walk away without a word when the song ended. Or worse, how about walking through the club and meeting the eyes of all the men searching for someone, and as they look at me or upon my face, quickly avert their eyes and walk by even faster. Better yet, how about having a man come at you in the parking lot when the club is closed, the night is over and there is no one left to see that they were in fact interested in you. Well interested enough to think that you would be a willing candidate for meaningless sex.”
Realizing that I had said too much, I had literally let my slip show. I ended the conversation talking about mundane happy-go-lucky person subjects and put the article away along with my feelings.
Taking the article in hand I walked over to the computer to do a little bit of research. What would be the harm in checking out their hours for tonight? None I say!
There on my screen appears the website with a little teaser button that begs you to “click to enter.” Do I dare? Yes I do!
Bold with mouse in palm, I left click my way through the door into another world. There are pictures everywhere of Big Beautiful women dancing and partying. Now don’t get me wrong I’m not one to judge, but some of the pictures display a small handful of women wearing outfits that scream out “just because it comes in your size, does not mean you should wear it’.” Lord, please don’t strike me down where I sit for that inconsiderate comment. Shaking my head I continue my journey.
Success, I found the address and hours. What? I would just like to know where it’s located, and what time their hours are! Skimming the paragraph my mood starts to dim for there in midst paragraph I read the following: “Due to popularity, the club has outgrown the size of the current venue, and we are in the process of acquiring a bigger and better place to party. Keep checking back.”
Unbelievable, is there something against me getting to this club? There has to be another way. So I start searching the web engine for anything related to BBW’s (that’s Big Beautiful Women). Searching, searching, I see clothing lines and pornography sites, not! So I plug in ‘BBW dance’ and I hit the jackpot.
I click on the first link and find that there is a club also in Los Angeles, but tonight they are not at their regular venue and will be in Beverly Hills instead. What’s another ten minutes west? This is too good to pass up; I’m really going to do it this time!
Funny how when something is important to me somewhere in my head a song starts playing that coincides with the event. Right now I hear “All by myself.”
Chapter Two
Last makeup check, I swing my face side to side looking for anything out of order. Okay, my hair came out good; eyes look good, what about the lips? Should I wear lip gloss, or go all out and apply the lipstick?
So many thoughts are running through my head. I keep telling myself ‘you can do this,’ there are plenty of people that go out alone. That doesn’t make them desperate it shows their strength and confidence. My friends do not define me, I do. Yes that’s the right attitude.
I’m a pretty girl, not extraordinary, but definitely a face you won’t forget.
You know, that is one of my biggest pet peeves. I’m getting mad just thinking about it. Bear with me, I know that you are sitting there wondering what I’m talking about, but just me thinking and even saying that I have a pretty face set me off.
I truly hate when someone thinks that they are complimenting me by saying “you have such a pretty face.” Okay my face is pretty, so what are you leaving out?
Counting to ten, I retrace my thoughts back to the point that I was making to you. Where was I? Oh yes my face! Putting on makeup is not a necessity, it is just an enhancement. I do not spend countless hours, on a daily basis making up my face. A little mascara, lip gloss, and maybe some eyeliner is all it takes. You can bet on it, that 90% of the time this face is au naturale. I rarely get a blemish, got to thank my grandmother for that, kisses to you Nana!
My hair is pretty long, just past the middle of my back. Tonight I have it curled and parted on the side. I have chosen to wear a long black skirt with a slit on the side and topped it with a blue silk blouse. A little cologne behind the ears, a touch on the cleavage, two drops at the knees and I am ready to roll.
Grabbing my purse I check to make sure that I have everything. Lip gloss? Check. Cell phone? Check. Identification? Triple check! I am ready to go, keys in hand I look back at my apartment as though it will be the last time. But I assure myself that it will be the last time that I walk out the door afraid and the first time I step out into a new way of thinking.
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I arrive at the restaurant that is hosting the club for the night, I have parked my car, yet I find it hard to actually disengage the door lock so that I might exit the car. I check myself one last time in the visor mirror, and bite the bullet.
Head high, I walk with a purpose towards the entrance; I pull the door open and step inside. The occupants currently spaced here and there are diners, not yet finished with their meals. I am at this point thinking that I got something wrong. The crowd is a bit older, and it seems that there is a type of birthday party going on. I am just about to walk out the door when the hostess stops me and asks if I need help. To which I reply that “I was supposed to be meeting my friends at a dance club, and I believe I made a mistake, so I was just leaving.”
I take one step towards the door and feel like my exit will be unnoticed and I can save what is left of my ego, which just so happens to be hanging on to the slit of my skirt, peeking out. Wrong! That is just too easy Crys.
In a very distinct and loud voice she says, “Oh! You’re here for the Extra Large club, you should have a seat in the bar, dinner is almost over and they are about to start setting up for the evening” With a smile she points in the direction of the bar and walks away. See what you get for telling that little white lie Crystal Lynn!
In my peripheral vision I see my pride mixing with the shadows on the wall making a clean get away. Traitor!
I quickly walk in the direction of the front door and head out to the parking lot. I get all the way to my car, get in, place the key in the ignition and contemplate turning the motor over, when courage happens along and comes knocking on the window.
In my head there is an argument going on about the length that I had gone to getting here, to only walk away without getting what I really wanted. If you don’t do it now, you never will. Alright already! I’m going back in; I just need a moment to gather my thoughts.
Pulling open the door I head back to the restaurant, agreeing that a Corona would be an excellent idea to get the party started. Ok, so shoot me a little liquid courage is just what the doctor ordered.
Side note, I can’t really handle more than one drink, so we are safe, no intervention is necessary!
I once again step through the doors and go straight to the bar. Looking ahead I see that there are people at the bar, so I will not be all alone. I’m looking around at the seating arrangements and decide that the place is not so bad after all.
In my peripheral vision I notice that someone is looking at me, not just looking at me, but looking with one of those smiles that make you feel like you just stepped out into the sun. I turn my head in his direction, meet his stare, for it is a stare, and return the smile. Continue walking towards the bar and sit at the empty bar stool to his left. I am really bold, I really just sat down, and I am really hearing myself order a Corona like it’s what I do! Unbelievable, who is this chic?
About half-way through my Corona, which didn’t take to long to get to, because I pretty much downed it, he speaks. “Hello, how are you?” there goes that smile again.
It’s funny I hear myself talking, answering his questions, completely engaging in a complete conversation where I am also asking questions and smiling back. He is so easy to talk to because I am hearing myself open up to him, was that a laugh? Did I really just laugh out loud? No really, who is this chic?
I feel like I have known him forever! Just as I was in mid sentence about something he gets the strangest look, turns to his right and says to me “oh, and this is my Wife Terrilyn.” I look past him to make her acquaintance, just as she is turning towards him to see what he is saying she glances up towards me, all I can think is ‘look at her eyes, her lashes are so long, she is so beautiful.’ Her mouth is moving I know that she is saying something, but all I can do is stare at her and raise my head up and down like and idiot. I finally hear “nice to meet you, have a great time” and they are moving away towards a booth with a small group of people.
The music starts going, and before I know it the club is filled to capacity. One after another, men are asking me to dance with them, talking to me, trying to buy me drinks, asking for my phone number. I am overwhelmed so completely that my head is spinning.
Have you ever been to a club, and there is this one girl there that everyone is trying to talk to, be around, and dance with, while the rest of us are sitting around the room like wallpaper? Yeah you know what I’m talking about, I know you do! Tonight that was me!
I danced the night away, and I laughed with my whole heart. Before leaving the club, the couple that I had met earlier gave me their email address so that they could give me the information to join the club they mentioned that they were part of.
What I found very interesting was that they were part of a group for BBW’s, which held get-togethers and different functions in and around the Los Angeles area. The majority of the people that were in the club tonight had met earlier in the day at a nearby park and had a huge bar-b-que; I was really impressed.
Leaving the club, I’m walking on air. I feel like Cinderella, vindicated! I got go to the ball, dance with many a Prince Charming, and left when I was ready! I am on top of the world and truly happy that I followed my first thought and just did it. Boy have I been missing out on life.
When I got home Evelyn was just pulling into the driveway and shutting the gate. I was going to try to walk down the driveway to my apartment without saying a thing, but she had a twelve pack in hand and asked me if I would have a beer with her.
So while we sat on the porch and I nursed the bottle listening to her latest adventure with Serena, I was secretly reminiscing on my night. In mid thought I heard Evelyn ask me a question, and by the way that she was looking at me, I know it was really important. Oh shit, how do I ask her to repeat the question without her thinking that I wasn’t paying attention to her? Ok, let me recall the last thing that I remember her saying. Serena and the kids were going to Mexico to visit family, but that was a while ago.
“I’m sorry E, I think that the Corona has made my head fuzzy, what did you ask me?”
“Punk Ass Mo Fo!” that’s Evelyn’s term of endearment for me. “I was asking you if it was wrong for me to be mad that she is up and leaving for two weeks. Do I have a right to say anything?”
“Well if you have to ask Silly Ass, you know that you don’t.” I start laughing to lighten the mood. I know that she is sitting precariously on the edge of unreason. Serena is a girl that E works with who is very flirty, very needy, and very straight.
Serena has told Evelyn on more than one occasion that they could never be more than ‘friends’ and that she was attracted to her but could not cross the line into actually doing anything ‘intimate’ with her. If that’s the case Ho’, why do you keep on flirting with Evelyn, sitting in her lap, and worst of all calling her when you or your kids need something!
So many times I have wanted to just get in my car and drive to the girls’ house and leave her laid out somewhere, but I think of my E and I just sit here and listen. I try to be constructive in my opinions and advice, because she is very sensitive, and may turn in a quick second and get extremely defensive.
“Well Chick,” I say “I’m going to head on down, I’m sleepy. I had a beer when I went out tonight, and another now here with you, I met my quota.”
“Good night, I guess you can leave me here with all this beer and I can drink myself into oblivion. Nobody knows,” She trails off singing the last part; she isn’t serious about drinking the rest of the beer, just trying to play on my sympathy because she isn’t ready to go in yet.
Unfortunate for her, I’m not falling for it tonight. I really am tired and would love to wash off this makeup and jump into bed pulling my covers up and over.
I walk down the driveway, get to the bottom and remember that I left my purse on top of E’s car. So I turn back around and march double time to retrieve it, what a space case I am tonight.
Once inside the house, I shut the door, and lean up against the jamb. All of a sudden, reality kicks in and I get that “Oh no, what did you do?” feeling. Taking a deep breath I analyze the night and can only describe it this way:
I have literally stepped off of the sidewalk into traffic without looking in either direction. The road that I have crossed is so vast; it is as though I have crossed national lines. I was not afraid but now that I have crossed the street and turned to look at the direction from which I came, I see the pitfalls that I dodged along the way.
The reality is that for twenty-one years, yes twenty-one years, I let myself become a second class citizen in my own life. I am the master at intrigue and I have hidden it well, so well in fact, that sometimes I fool myself. Most believe me to be the strongest, sweetest, most good natured, well adjusted ‘for what she’s been through’ woman there is. However there is more than meets the eye, you see what I don’t allow them to see, is that dark hour at the end of the night when I put away my “super woman” costume and the only thing left standing is a dewy eyed little girl staring up at the hanger. When I let myself be all that I truly am, allow me to be me, it can only be this way; alone and in the dark. I have to maintain my identity.
Chapter Three
Sunday morning, I don’t recall closing my eyes, let alone falling asleep so soundly. I get up and get my day started, well put the coffee maker to brewing. Rummaging through the refrigerator I decide to make a big breakfast because Jessica will be home in about an hour. She spent the weekend with her best friend Giovanni.
I know to make enough food for about five people because between the two of them, they can put you in the poor house. Jessica and Gio are on the precipice of their teen years, yet to unfold and reveal their true selves. They are uniquely paired; once they met they were inseparable. From day one they devised a definition to educate the less fortunate on the dynamics of who they were; they would explain away common friendship with the term Sister-Mates, a cross between soul mates and sisters. What one lacked in grace or character, the other lacked in wit and substance. Together they balanced out and maintained the others’ order.
They make do and survive their separation during school hours, for they attend different schools. But you can bet that after that they are either in the library or at one of their many homes. They share my humble abode, Gio’s mother’s home, and Grandpa J’s. They prefer the latter because Grandpa J spoils them rotten. Whatever his “girls” want they have but to utter a sigh and he has their wishes granted.
Does that make them bad girls? On the contrary, they receive with respect and dignity the offerings placed before them and truly appreciate their fortune. My girls still play with their Barbie’s; well they design clothing for them now instead of building imaginary storylines for them.
I am truly blessed to enjoy the relationship I have with my daughter, it is my most valued treasure. When she was a little girl she loved her Daddy just a little more than me, but since the divorce two years ago, the tides have changed.
In the past two years we have faced many a struggle and withstood the storm and came out the other side pretty good if I do say so myself. I’m the type of mother that earns trust and respect and returns it tenfold. There is absolutely nothing I would not do for her, in the pursuit of making her a respectful and responsible contribution to this crazy thing life. If you do not teach your child right from wrong and live as an example you have nothing. The greatest ability that God gave us was the ability to love and nurture without reason.
This lesson alone I try to instill in Jessica, and in the long run to Gio as well. Every single day of Jessica’s life, I made her believe that she was beautiful inside and out and that there was nothing that she could not accomplish if she just tried.
I’m sitting here cutting onions and tears are running down my eyes. Such a sap! When I start thinking about the type of mom that I have been, who I am today and who I want to be in the future, I get a little out of sorts. You see I made a promise the moment Jessica let out her first wail, that I would never leave her and I would always make sure she knew how very important she was to me. She was born on 4/21 at 4:21 pm. Everyday since then @ 4:21pm I find her, talk to her, hug her, and tell her how much I love her.
Am I an obsessive Mother? Hey anything is possible. Thinking about it I can pinpoint that I am this way because I have never met my own Mom and hold just the teensiest tiniest bit of resentment towards her.
She left me behind when I was six months old, never to return. When I would ask my family why, they would all become quiet or just say that they didn’t remember the reasons behind her leaving. I think that I could never really grasp the feelings that I had for and about her until Jessica cried. All I could think was how was it possible? How could a mother leave their child behind?
It wasn’t as though she was young and couldn’t be responsible because I have two older brothers that she took with her. So when I was told that she left me because I looked too much like my dad, I had no choice but to believe it with every fiber of my being.
Well then again if you add to the fact or give credence to the family scandal, the one where it seems she was having an affair with my uncle during the time she became pregnant with me. Well I guess you could say I had ample reason to be better. I tell you finding out about that one was a doozey.
Ok, let’s leave that sob story for another day there’s chorizo and eggs to make, tortillas to warm and OJ to squeeze. Maybe I will take the girls to go see a movie tonight. Smiling I pick up my coffee cup and take my first sip. Oh that is so good. I look down at the table and am amazed. I must have gone on Auto-pilot, breakfast is ready!
Chapter Four
Heading home from work, traffic is light and my day went pretty easy. Not bad for a Friday afternoon. Annette comes home on Sunday which leaves E and I still on our own.
I really don’t want to sit at home so I am contemplating my options for the night. E was talking about hitting up West Hollywood maybe do some dancing. But deep down I want to branch out and explore the big girl life.
Thinking about it I started wondering what I did with the email address for that couple that I met. I could email Terrilyn and see if there was something out there to do. I don’t know why I haven’t emailed them earlier; I think it may have been jitters not too sure. I assure myself that I have just been too busy not outright chicken shit.
Parking my car I decide that no I was not going to go dancing and would spend time catching up on my emails. Plus if nothing turned out to be intriguing I had a new series of books that I had been dying to get my hands on. A nice quiet weekend tangled in bed book in hand is always a great way to spend my weekend. Completely happy to have settled on my decision I head on down the hill to get it started.
Jessica is gone for the week with Gio’s family to Las Vegas, unbelievable that my 13 year old has more of a social life than I do. Go figure. After dinner I grab my purse and start the search for the paper containing the email address. God my purse is such a mess I seem to collect every piece of paper around because the proof is in my hands. There are receipts in here from six months ago. I guess I just gave away my big secret; I’m not the girl that changes purses like I change my chonies. (You know the under garment that surrounds my nether regions.) Or maybe I’m one of those people that really aren’t comfortable with change, could that be it?
I have always wanted and desired to be girly, you know changing purses to match my shoes and all but I just can’t seem to get there. Inside me the diva is screaming to let her out so she can attack my wardrobe, but I got her ass on lockdown. I’m not a tomboy for the record; I just haven’t gotten there yet. I have a picture in my mind of the person that I am supposed to be; one day soon I will get there. I am a work in progress.
Finally finding the slip of paper I go over to the computer and turn it on. Knowing that it will take forever to get online I walk over to the radio and put on my Miles Davis “Kind of Blue” cd. Oh that is so much better! For most people that know me they would be rather surprised at my taste in music. When I am alone I really let myself delve deeply into significant music, music that sings to my heart. Today it’s Miles, who knows later on it may be Pachebel’s Canon in D Major. Yes, that truly does my heart good.
Getting to the point here, I sit and get ready to take a leap. I log into my email account and choose to compose a message then halfway through hit the delete button. Up pops the “are you sure” message, yes damn it. I don’t want to put myself out on a limb with the message, what if I sound desperate? So instead I enter the address on instant messenger to see if Terrilyn is logged in.
“Hello? It’s Crystal, I met you and your husband at the dance club in Beverly Hills not too long ago.” and I hit enter. I’m feeling a little desperate here! What are they going to think, will they even remember who I am?
Time passes and I do see that she is logged in, but no response is coming. Feeling like I made a big mistake, I minimize the window to my tool bar and start reading emails. What I can’t understand is why I am so nervous, why do I feel like jumping out of my skin?
My toolbar has lit up; she answered me! “Wassup?” and so it begins. Before long we have talked about a plethora of subjects and have passed up about two hours. Before the end of the conversation I am sending her emoticons of a kissy face, promising to talk again real soon. To which there is a long pause, and then a kissy face is replied.
Ok the time passed and conversation was light and fun and many possibilities for the future have been given to me like a precious gift, but the one thing I can’t seem to stop thinking about is her smile.
I am sitting here feeling high on life, and all I want to see is her smiling face again. We made plans to hang out, but there was a huge party that was being planned at a local hotel suite that was paramount on the agenda. The entire group had planned a “bring some food and your drink of choice and dance yourselves silly in your pajamas” party.
I am so excited, I’m wondering if I will be able to keep from imploding during the rest of the month until the date arrives. A whole month to go, what will I do with myself? I will just have to keep busy.
From this point on my weekend seemed to breeze right on by, when ever I could I would log into instant messenger to see if Terrilyn was logged in, sometimes I would be lucky and get to talk and others times I would just tell myself better luck next time.
I guess that seemed to be how time passed during the weeks that followed, I would go to work, take care of business, and then settle down to the computer to talk about the up coming party.
At one point Terrilyn and I spent a conversation on figuring out what kind of pajamas to wear. We both agreed that we weren’t going to show up to the party in naughty lingerie as we were sure some definitely would. In the end I chose flannel pajamas that comprised of shorts and a matching top. Terrilyn said that she would be coming in pajama pants with a matching top. All was settled and all that was left were a few days to finally get there.
The final plans were set; there would be about 25 of us partying between three or four rooms. There was to be one main room for the actual party where the food and drinks would be kept.
Most of the guests would be coming to party but would leave for their own homes at whatever hour things wound down. Terrilyn told me that she and her husband had decided to get a room so that they would be staying. We planned on having a blast without worrying about driving afterwards.
Chapter Five
Ok it’s really time for me to lay it all out on the line for you. I don’t think that I have been honest enough with you to let you really see just why I am so excited about this function. Why I can’t wait to get there to the party. It has nothing to do with the party or being with people that hang out together for the good of big women everywhere. I would like to believe that that is where my heart lies. Where my intentions sit in wait, but it is the thought of Terrilyn that is rattling me, everyday I wait for just a moment to talk with her. The very thought brightens my day.
Ever since I can remember and I can remember far, I have had crushes on and lusted after the female form. In art, in movies, in everything around me there has always been a connection. I used to let my dad’s idea of naked women be viewed as nothing but an expression of true art. When we were home nudity was not viewed as unnatural and immoral when it was brought into our realm, but was told that nothing in this world could be more beautiful than God’s creation and perfection in the nude form.
I’m not saying that we all ran around the house naked, please remove that from your mind; instead we were exposed to many venues of painted, sculpted, and sketched art of the human form. We were taught to appreciate the gift of our own temples so to speak, and to accept our differences as our uniqueness.
For example I have moles on my face, from my earliest memory I remember being told that they were my beauty marks. At no time in my life have I done anything but embrace and love my moles. When asked by my doctor to have them checked because they might need to be removed, I felt like the doctor was trying to steal my identity. I feel beautiful because of them; I would feel the true sense of the word ‘naked’ without them.
I have secretly crushed and loved women and found no attraction to men no matter how hard I tried. I tried so hard I married twice with no success. I have failed at every attempt to be normal and be what I think is requested of me.
Seeing a message from Terrilyn on my computer screen gives me just a glimmer of sunlight; I have let myself admit that I am attracted to her. But that is as far as I have taken it for I know she is married. I’m not trying to do anything or expect anything but somehow I can’t get past the feeling that it is mutual. I feel as though she is enjoying me in the same way. I could be lying to myself and leading myself down an unfamiliar road that could lead to my own demise, but I can’t stop what I feel nor do I want to deny it.
I no longer want to be someone else, I want to be me.
With that out on the table I can now pick up my overnight bag, grab my keys and head out to the suites. I’m trying to get there a little early so I can help set up everything. I have already agreed that I would be one of the ones that will stay the night in one of the rooms.
I get to the designated hotel, park my car and head up to the main room. People are moving around setting up food and drinks and stuff and pretty much look like they are finished. I see Terrilyn’s husband so I flag him down and let him know that I made it. He tells me that he’s happy to see me and that I could set my stuff in the bedroom area and to find a seat and relax because they have everything under control.
Without seeming anxious I fight the urge to ask where she is, so I obey his direction. Not too long after I am seated he tells me that he is going to go next door to their room and finish getting ready, that Terrilyn was putting on her Pajamas, and where were mine. I said that I had them in my bag and would be putting them on soon. He told me to grab my bag and come next door to get ready. Bag in hand I follow.
When I walk through the door there is a sitting area with a couch and a bar area exactly like the room next door. Through the double doors I hear Terrilyn laughing at something, she has a brush in her hand and is brushing her long hair, catches a glimpse of me and smiles. I am mesmerized because she looks so genuinely happy to see me.
I look at her and I gasp and am a little mortified, when asked what was wrong all I could do was giggle and say to them “hold on a second and I will show you.” I ask if anyone is in the bathroom so I could change and hightail it through and quickly shut the door behind me.
For what seems like forever I am standing with my back against the door, breathing like I have just walked up ten flights of stairs with a dog chasing me trying to bite my behind every step of the way. All the while I want to break into hysterical laughter because I can’t pull my nerves together. Get yourself together girl you came next door to put on your pajamas get to it. When I finally get changed I check myself in the mirror and walk out. Standing in my short flannel pajamas I say “see!” They both turn towards me with clear amusement in their eyes yet I catch something in a glance they share between one another. I will hold on to that for later. Analyze that look and turn it around to discover the meaning just not right now, it’s not important.
What is relevant you ask? Terrilyn has on the exact pajamas; same color and design only hers are the longer pant version. Great minds think alike! We are all laughing and any awkwardness I was weary of never had a chance to surface.
Not long after this moment, in walk the friends that were with them at the club the night we met. One girl in particular looks from Terrilyn and then to me and makes the most disgusted face, just as I am being drug next door to get some food and drinks with Pierre. I follow him but get the feeling that I was just rescued from something ugly. I can ask myself what that was all about but choose not to even give it a second thought.
Chapter Six
The party is going full swing, there is music playing, people dancing and eating, laughing and drinking, just having a blast. It is intoxicating, I go around the room taking in my surroundings, meeting new people, talking and laughing right along. A lot of time has passed and I realize that Terrilyn is not here partying with us. I do know that I saw her come in but when I looked up again she was gone.
I look around the room and see that Pierre is still on bartender duty, so I walk up to him and strike up a conversation. We start talking about anything and everything. Conversation is easy and very comforting. We get into the subject of pajamas and start talking about the naughty lingerie that some women felt necessary to wear only to act offended when someone leered at them a little too long. Well at least they did when the looks were not by whom they wished to receive them from.
In general everyone is having a merry time. I am talking to Pierre but I am wishing that I was with her. Is that awful of me? He excuses himself from me and says that he will be right back. I stand right where he left me and wait for his return. Why do I suddenly feel like my lifeline was torn away?
Well be careful what you wish for girl because troubles coming right your way. Mr. Dance Fever, the man I so dub because I have not seen him stop, he has been dancing pretty much the whole night. As he walks up to me he says, “Well, you’re not exactly chocolate, but I can see by those eyes, that you would be the one to make me taste a different flavor!”
Are you serious? I am looking at the door hoping that Pierre will be coming back to save me from this boogabear so I will not have to hurt his feelings. Oh well there goes my hopes, that wasn’t him coming through the door. Letting out a silent sigh of exasperation I say to Mr. Oh So Not the One, “I like chocolate too, but I prefer mine without nuts” and smile as sweetly as I can. To which he starts laughing and tapping me on the shoulder, shakes his head and starts to walk away.
That was when Pierre returned, a little too late Mister! Oh well I handled it all by my little ole self.
“What was all that about?” Pierre is smiling but there is something else there behind his eyes and it is clearly not amusement. I tell him what the Neanderthal had said and how I answered him and he erupted in laughter and said “good because I thought I was going to have to beat him down for talking to you.”
“What’s this I hear? Could my ears be deceiving me? Is there truly a man left on this earth that has a chivalrous bone left intact?” I feign surprise. “Come on now you really didn’t think that I would be interested in what he had to offer did you?”
“No I pretty much thought that you had better taste than that.”
“Well I truly do, you can bank on it. Anyways, thank you for almost coming to my rescue. For a moment there I was getting a little scared. He is a little on the ‘dark and hairy’ side of hell no.”
Pierre grabs my hand and leads me to the door, “where are we going?” I ask. Pierre shakes his head and continues to pull me behind him. We walk next door and just as he is about to open the door he says, “Terrilyn is a little on the tipsy side, would you do me a favor and sit with her while I tend to some drinks?”
At last, oh my goodness, wait a minute that means that we will be alone. What if I can’t talk to her? How should I act? What am I going to do? Stop Crys you got this, just breathe.
I walk through the door and she is sitting on the couch, I shut the door behind me and walk over and sit down. I can see that she is definitely happy to see me, her eyes are shining, and her smile is in them. God she is gorgeous.
Chapter Seven
She is sitting on the couch, but she has her leg curled up so she is sitting sideways facing me. I mirror her as I arrange myself on the couch. I am looking at her face; her cheeks are a little red or blushed as in heated. There is so much I want to say, but I don’t feel a word capable of coating my tongue with eloquence and beauty is near. My mind is in complete chaos, a war by way of failed syntax or is it a complete misfire of the synopsis? Hello brain, any day now. I ask her why she wasn’t next door, she replied that she had hurt her foot and was resting it. And we’re off!
At first the conversation is silly between us, because we are both acting like we just met, and haven’t been sharing our most detailed lives over the internet all these past weeks.
I stick my chest out and ask the one question that I have been holding onto since I walked out the door earlier, “who was that girl, and why did she make all those faces at me?”
Now I may have been bold enough to ask, but I find that my cowardly face has turned away quickly as though expecting retaliation from her answer. The truth is that I don’t really care why she was making faces. I just want to know who she is to Terrilyn.
There is silence, as I glance up at her to see her expression she answers me, “Up ‘til now, she has been my girlfriend, but things haven’t been working out between us so I need to break it off with her. I planned on doing it tonight.”
Why did my heart just stop beating? I hear her, I see her mouth forming the words, but all I can think is whether or not I’m really hearing her.
She asks me straight out, if I could handle it? My brain is in a fog, handle it? Think Crys what is it that she is asking you to handle. Taking a deep breath in I exhale and seeming all too calm well at least on the outside, I say, “I’m more ready than you can imagine.”
We are talking and the words are flying across the couch, yet neither one of us has moved. This is so easy, this table tennis of words being exchanged back and forth, back and forth. Almost like a pendulum, never missing a beat. Yes that is exactly how I would explain this phenomenon. I have never been able to just flow, words normally get stuck mid throat and never make their way out. Trust me it isn’t because I don’t have anything worth saying, I’m really just too unsure of my own value. I have always stopped the words from sneaking over my tongue, in order to save another from having to hear my outlandish thoughts.
Have you ever been so fired up about an idea and can’t wait to share it, only to have someone clearly disconnect in the middle of the conversation? I have and I promised myself that I would never put myself in that position again. There is nothing as cutting as watching the light dimmer in someone’s eyes as you are speaking to them. Down to the very core of you, it knocks the wind out of your sails.
Time is flying by us; I have found myself many a time, just staring at her eyes. There is something so deep inside, something that I need to experience. Somewhere in the depth of those eyes, is a soul that needs to open up and sing.
She is truly a genuine person, whom will say exactly what is on her mind and mean it. Only to look at you after expelling her thoughts as though you would try to challenge her. I wouldn’t, there is something so strong about her character that I truly am taken off guard. I am older in years; she trumps me in her very essence. I find myself simply in awe.
She explains her situation to me, and I am hanging on every word. Terrilyn is a married woman, with a husband that has always known that she was a lesbian. She has a family, one she would not have had were it not for Pierre and Pierre alone. They are not a freaky couple, seeking a playmate. Although have ventured out to add spice to their sexual life. Up until now, nothing has worked, because the girl getting involved with her or with them has always been in it for Pierre, not for her.
I see deeply in those eyes, how this last sentence means more than anything she has revealed to me since we started this conversation. My mind fixates on those words, and my heart expels a single statement, “I will never hurt her that way.”
I sit transfixed, wondering how I will ever be able to function when I’m not right here next to her. How is it that I am sitting near someone that makes me feel like the echo of all my secret desires? Ever wish, thought, and silent prayer is expelled from her every word, her every breath.
Come back to reality, I keep telling myself, she is only a person. Time is flying by so unbelievably fast, and I am dreading the moment when I will have to leave for home. Well we have tonight to enjoy this moment, this conversation; I’m ready.
Before long it seems the party next door has dwindled down, and everyone is going to their prospective quarters to slumber. Terrilyn and I are still sitting on the couch when Pierre comes into the room. Terrilyn grabs me by the hand and takes me into the bedroom, there are two beds. She says, “Will you lay with me?”
“What about Pierre, where will he sleep?” I ask, because I know that the other bed was intended for someone else to use for the night. I had planned on taking the couch where we had been these past few hours. I knew that I could hold on to the essence of the aura that she had left behind, and let it keep me company so that I might get a little bit of sleep.
Shaking her head she says, “Pierre do you mind if Crys shares the bed with me?” he shakes his head, smiles and makes a pallet on the floor next to the bed on my side. “See, now lay down with me.”
Who am I to argue? Terrilyn takes my hand and we lay down, we’re not talking, we’re not doing anything but enjoying our first touch. Her hand feels like molten gold in mine; soft as silk but heated with an amazing sting of energy. Before I manage another thought I am deep asleep. I know this because I felt that amazing drift tearing at me when I heard the voice of someone very angry, and then a slam of not one but two doors.
Shaken I open my eyes to see Terrilyn and Pierre staring at the closed bedroom door. “Oh well!” she says, Pierre just shakes his head. Out the door was none other than the ex girlfriend.
Back to sleep we drift without another thought.
The morning comes too fast; I wake to the sound of my cell phone chiming. I had set the alarm so that I would not oversleep and be late in picking up the daughter. Cursing my alarm I quietly get up and head to wash up. Amazingly Terrilyn did not stir, she is still sound asleep.
After washing up I head out to the living room area and sit down where Pierre is watching football on the TV. “Good morning.” I say.
He smiles and says, “Good morning to you, did you sleep well?” To which I could only smile.
We are not long into the football game when Terrilyn pops her head out and comes to sit with us. She is sitting in the chair, I feel like asking Pierre to move so she can sit next to me. Am I rude or what? Laughing at myself I settle down and let my thoughts die down telling that inner self to chill.
Pierre and Terrilyn are talking and laughing back and forth, planning the rest of their day. They are all as a group going to have lunch and watch a movie. They asked if I would like to join them, but I let them know that I really had to go and pick up my daughter, but really wish that I could. To which they told me that I should just go pick her up and come back. God I really want to, but I know that I have to get the daughter ready for this week of school. Back to reality I go.
In order to stay with my decision, I left them in the living room and went into the bathroom to get myself ready to go. I kept trying to make myself move faster but my heart was not in it. I did not want to leave; it felt like I was going to be missing out on my life.
Grabbing my bag, I take one last look at the bed and head out to the living room so that I could say my goodbyes. Out the door I go, setting my bag down I let them know that I am leaving. I go over and give Pierre a hug and tell him thank you, and walk to where Terrilyn is sitting in the chair. I want to hug her, but she won’t stand up. Deeply staring into my eyes she says, “What? You’re not going to kiss me goodbye?”
My only thought was “You asked for it,” and I kissed her with everything I had to give. I felt the tingle from it down to my toes. My head was spinning by the time I could pull away from her lips, giving me an instant smile. I was amazed, thinking how amazing that kiss was. I looked deep into her eyes and smiled, because I could see that I not only surprised her, but dazed her as much as I did myself.
I have met my equal.
Chapter Eight
I have driven home on Auto-pilot my mind is reeling from the spark that ignited when our lips met. I want to analyze how I feel, but my heart is beating too fast and too strongly to attempt to do anything but breathe.
You can say ‘damn girl, calm down it was just a kiss,’ but it’s more than that. It is a defining moment, my stark reality that everything has been an utter lie. Yes I wanted to show her that I was bold, that I could be everything to her, that I was not afraid. Instead it was me that was shown and bared; lying naked to my soul. How do I begin to understand that reality lies within those emotions that were revealed by one kiss?
I’m at home and I am able to function but I am not fully myself. I am not depressed, but I feel as though I am mourning the loss of so many years that I lived for other people. Does that make any kind of sense? Why has it been more important to be approved by others than by my own myself?
I stop myself from logging onto the computer, because I know that she is busy at the movies with everyone else. But I really and truly want to know how she felt from that kiss. Did she feel what I felt, or am I crazy? I’m shaking my head because the dating rule about not calling too soon is popping in my head. Ok, this is a different situation, it wasn’t technically a date, and so does it apply?
I must be crazy because I can’t stop reeling, almost to the point of anxiety. Is this how stalkers begin? I’m kidding, come on now, the kiss was good but I’m not going to park outside of her house and wait for her to come home. Well not for just a peck kiss, no tongue was involved, I do have some restraint.
With that said the little stalker inside of me takes over and before long I hear myself say, ‘I’ll just log onto messenger and leave it on, who knows, maybe she’ll miss me.’ With the volume on as high as it can go, I walk away from the computer and perform the act of the person I used to be.
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The rest of the day flies by because I truly have a lot of things to take care of so that I may get my behind to work and the child ready for this week. I keep myself busy with so many things because I simply refuse to fall back into the computer chair just to see if she is there. Temptation is really a difficult enemy to overcome. Thoughts of the “could be’s” are simply eating away at my strength. By six o’clock I can no longer control the urge; I have to see if she is there.
Now mind you I am in the middle of eating dinner, but can’t eat, not until I know. Positive that another bite of food will not go down until I see for myself if she is there; I get up and walk over to the computer. Sure enough she is right there within my reach, but she hasn’t messaged me. Bite the bullet Crys, you are a grown woman!
Placing the cursor over her name, I double click, and start to type. The words are free flowing in the little box, but I keep backspacing, because I keep saying too much. I finally decide to just say “Hi.”
Once again we are off to talking about anything and everything; I do not once ask her about the kiss. Instead we are talking our way into finding time to do anything that will lead us back together without planning on being “together.”
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