Wednesday, November 16, 2016

The hero

I guess this is the part in my story where the hero comes to my rescue after I have lost all hope.

After quite possibly the most traumatic week of my life (this whole election bullshit has made me physically ill... where I've fainted in the middle of bootcamp and have felt nauseated all damn day. That same visceral reaction I have to news that upsets me horrifically), like in a fucking movie... the hero in my life reappears.

Today, out of the blue, at around 6pm, I logged on to FB to notice I had a new friend request. Rolling my eyes, I clicked on the notification expecting some annoying middle aged person from Hometown... but instead saw the name... a name I have been looking for since high school: Mario, the boy from the Red Ruffles story from a few years ago.

He's a fucking stereotypical Raiders fan... but he's fucking ALIVE! And FREE.
I screamed.
I almost cried.
I shivered like a dog with no shelter in the middle of a rainstorm.
All over an ex-convict.

I had not seen this guy since 1998... I felt elated.
My one protector during one of the most difficult times of my life... the one voice telling me I was beautiful when the majority were taking time trying to drown me in the negative;
The boy from the wrong side of the tracks who showed me and only me the depth of his soul:

And it did not take him more than five minutes to remind me I was beautiful, that I am "prettier" now.

Like... man... I fucking cried with joy... that bittersweet joy... of just how fucking FUCKED life is.

Is he trying to get in my pants like some dads my age are nowadays? Probably. Do I care? No. I'm happy to know he's out there... and it makes me blush to know he went through the trouble of looking for me. I feel... even if it's not the case, I feel as though... someone with whom I've intersected in life still remembers that time, and remembers it fondly. It makes me feel like I matter... like I'm memorable... like I really did mean something to him. It satiates that desire, that dream, that little line I'd constantly tell myself, the line I so badly wanted to believe during my lows: someone out there is looking for YOU.
After over a decade dealing with these situation where guys I think so highly about are constantly reminding me how fucking worthless I am to them, how forgettable and often obnoxious/burdensome I am... there's this kid I shared memories with twenty years ago... and he still thinks fondly of me.
That means the fucking world to me... especially right now.

This feeling is so fucking weird.

I am a nerdy shy girl... whose been on the back of the mind of a hardcore ex-con... and it makes me blush...

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