Friday, July 22, 2011
Whom gods despise
I was doing some manual labor today, and whenever I put my body through that type of ordeal, I think back to the days when I had muscles instead of hairy blubber, fitness instead of flappy man wings.
I think back to girlfriends I have loved.
I think back to a blue tank-top I used to wear; it opened far down the side, like to my hips, and had a picture of the beach on it.
I was wearing that tank-top a day after a short, beautiful 8th grade relationship ended. On a long walk, my giant portable tape player by my side, the ragged heart ache of Bryan Adams on the Robin Hood:Prince of Thieves soundtrack in my ears-it was our song, our movie-I made my way to a nearby playground to swing slowly and sadly on a swing.
Emotion had so overcome me, that I failed to notice a troupe of pretty girls come on to the playground.
I only became aware of their presence when one of them was leaning into my face, studying it carefully. I slipped off my headphones in time to hear her bark, "No, it's not!" to one of the other girls.
"Um....hello?" I mumbled.
She glanced back at me, and smiled through her long brown bangs.
"Oh, sorry. My sister thought you had a good body and she wanted to know if your face was cute." She looked again in the direction of her sister and solemnly shook her head.
They wandered off, leaving me to my Bryan Adams, my swinging, and my homely visage.